War of the Desert Roses
by Avacado Platypus
Summary: AU. After Jak 3. Chapter 12! Holy bejeebus, that is one sweet car. I want a car like that.
1. Chapter 1:Explosion

Edit Chapter 1! I fixed a few aesthetic things. Like Ungodly long paragraphs. They're still long. But not _as_ long!

Anyhoo, there's a war on between the Marauders and the Spargans. Love. Hate. Explosions. And all that jazz.

Enjoy!

(P.S There's a reason why Dax isn't in this chapter. I haven't left him out!)

* * *

Something was strange today. 

Something in this desert was definitely different today. But what? Zleke wondered. Her leaper lizards were napping peacefully under a rock outcropping, having dined well on a nest of kanga rats they had discovered that morning. The skies were clear, the wind was still. For all intents and purposes it was a beautiful, if scorching, day. Absently Zleke reached a hand under her metal bracer and scratched at the grimy dust accumulated there. She was small but well built, as suited a Marauder. Her gray rough cloth pants hung loosely on her legs, slightly obscuring her steel toed riding boots. A set of dull armor ridged like that of a metalhead covered her torso and her right arm. Her left arm was bare, save for the lizard-hide gloves that reached halfway to her elbow. A leather pack on her back held food and water, as well as crude medical supplies. A Marauder mask, made of gray desert metalhead carapace and decorated with black feathers, obscured her face. A dirty red cloth around her head to keep off the sun completed the rough ensemble. She carried no weapons. No one came out here anyway. It was just hot, she decided finally, holding back a sigh. I really am going nuts out here. And then she heard it.

Engines.

It was rare to hear vehicles in this portion of the desert. Zleke's dusty brown ears twisted, listening. Two of them. No, three. Four? And then a new sound. Different.

A Spargus Vehicle.

The others were Marauders, her kin, she was sure. They lacked the fine high pitched whine that this strange vehicle had. But why were they out in this part of the desert? In the middle of rocky, sandy nowhere? In any case, it didn't sound peaceful. Her violet eyes narrowed behind her horned steel mask, and a nearby leaper lizard trilled nervously as it sensed her sudden tension. The Marauder warrioress would have to get her reptilian herd out of the way of the incoming vehicles, otherwise they would all panic and scatter. She chuckled grimly. Chasing down a dozen leaper lizards in a rain of gunfire would be an activity she could do without.

"Meena." She called roughly, and the alpha female lizard stood up sleepily. Meena cocked her head, as if to ask why her nap was disturbed.

"Come." Zleke instructed, and Meena snorted and hopped slowly over a pile of slumbering leaper lizards. Zleke vaulted onto her mount's back effortlessly.

"Come on, you lot. Storm's a comin." Zleke called to the herd. It was the one word they understood: storm. She nudged her mount down the side of the sandy outcropping while the others roused themselves. There was a cavern around here, known only to the Marauder shepherds like herself. Suddenly there came the sound of weapons fire, and the lizards squawked anxiously. Damn. It was closer than she anticipated. Zleke urged Meena into a run, and the now nervous lizards run after, calling back and forth as they ran to keep together. Eyes like violet lasers scanned the rocky hillside, until at last she found the round boulder that lay in front of the entrance. From a distance it looked as if it was just an ordinary boulder at the foot of a great hill, but from where she stood now she could see the cavernous space behind the giant rock. Zleke dismounted and led her mount inside, clucking to reassure those that followed after. Once she had satisfied herself that her charges were safe, she cautiously slid to the edge of the disguising boulder and peered out at the desert.

She didn't have to wait long. A hail of machine gun fire tore up the sand high up into the air on the horizon, and the sounds of the warring dune vehicles grew louder. Now a bit nervous, Zleke shrank farther back behind her stony cover, glad that her Marauder mask shielded not only her identity but her precious eyesight. Not that she would have any problems from her fellow Marauders, but those Spargans were known to be vicious. Or so she had heard. Zleke had never seen one.

Suddenly a deafening explosion rocked the landscape, causing the Lizards inside to screech in fear. Pebbles and bits of sand slid down the hill above her and rained onto her head. Plumes of black smoke were rising up over the nearest dune. Another explosion, and another one which felt it was right under her. The teeth rattled in Zleke's head and she fell to the ground, clamping her hands over her ears. She'd never heard anything so loud. The weapons fire was a constant staccato scream of death. Shaken, she raised her head, and saw.

There were two vehicles left now, circling each other like starving, injured scavengers not forty feet from where she crouched. One was a Marauder of a tribe she didn't know. The other was the Spargus vehicle. Her eyes widened in fascination. She'd never actually seen one before. The driver of the foreign vehicle, toned and tan with a head of yellow-green hair and a red scarf covering his face, didn't seem to notice her. Nor did the Marauder. It was obvious that both combatants weren't in very good shape. Dents and scratches were apparent on both vehicles, and the familiar black smoke was trailing off the Spargan vehicle in wisps. The Spargan must have blown up the other two, she realized. Could he really have taken on all four of them at the same time? Something caught her eye and she stopped her musing to take a bolder peek around the rock. Both vehicles slowed to a stop, idling, their wounded engines growling as if to challenge one another.

The wind shifted, bringing with it a harsh metallic scent. A storm was coming.

Zleke bit her lip, glad she had gotten her herd to safety early. Come on, she urged silently to her comrade. Even from where she hid Zleke could see the consternation behind her fellow Marauder's mask. He would have to finish this quickly, if he felt like living. The storm was not likely to be kind. His fingers tightened on his weapons...

...and suddenly went slack, as the stranger fired first. His gray armored form slumped over the wheel of his still idling vehicle. She stared in shock. They were Marauders. Tough. Masterful. There had to be some mistake! No way he would have failed to take a shot!

His body twitched. He still moved?

Zleke's dying comrade's body spasmed, and with his last twitch, pulled the trigger. The shot was true, and before her astounded eyes the stranger's vehicle exploded in a fiery rage of shrapnel and he was thrown clear, landing twenty feet away in a crumpled heap. Zleke gasped despite herself, then clamped a hand over her mask, even though it was unnecessary. Amazing! The dead man was a true warrior. She would have to notify her tribe of what she had saw. A lone Marauder, committed to killing the enemy while even so close to death himself. It was truly the stuff of legends. Still shaking her head in wonder she slid around the boulder onto the battlefield. Silence greeted her ears. Her eyes roamed hungrily over the now flaming vehicle. A pity. It would have made a fine trophy, and would have garnered her a few favors. Idly she walked over to where the yellow-haired one was lying sprawled across the sand, gasping for breath. His wounds were fatal, she could see that immediately. He would be dead within a few minutes. It was just as well.

Better you than me, she thought silently. Her eyes slid to a few scattered objects that lay half buried in the sand including an especially nice gun.

Pleased, she picked it up and weighed it in her hands. It was well crafted, and would be a valuable bargaining chip for whatever she needed, or even just a fine trophy. Zleke murmured approval as she shouldered the weapon. This stranger wouldn't be needing it now. There might be more trophies out here, she realized with a small smile. Eagerly she brushed the sand away from another object. It was not quite square and not quite round, a little larger than her head and appeared to expand somehow. Puzzled, she turned it over. What the hell was this? She hadn't seen anything like it in her life. Shrugging, Zleke set it aside and hunted for the next trinket. This one was tougher to find. Zleke was just about ready to give up when a copper colored glimmer caught her eye. A ha! She practically skipped the few yards over to where it lay. It was a pendant. To be more specific, an oblong shaped necklace. This man kept getting stranger and stranger. Expanding circles, odd necklaces, I wonder if he knew any other tricks?

There was a rustling behind her.

_What the..?_

Zleke turned quickly, then reflexively jumped out of the way as the blond man, now fully alive and well, sailed past her. What the hell! Zleke's eyes widened in alarm. She had been sure he was dead! Awed and not a little bit frightened she pulled the gun off her back and pointed it at him.

"Don't move." She growled, willing her voice not to crack. A dust devil whirled between them, but that didn't cloud in the least the anger that shone from his bright blue eyes.

"You have my gun." He responded, in a voice as tough as the armor she wore. "I'd like it back." He took a slow step towards her.

"I said don't move!" Her voice raised an octave, and her hands were shaking as they tightened their grip on the weapon.

Another step. And then another. To her horror Zleke saw a change come over this stranger. His skin was paling, becoming the kind of gray one only saw on corpses. The color leached from his eyes, revealing black, empty, soulless orbs behind. When the horns sprouted was when she began to scream. Oh Precursors, he's a monster! Zleke thought desperately. She emptied the entire clip at him, but it didn't bother him in the least, or even slow him down. The bullets bounced off him like the pebbles loosen from the explosion had bounced off her head. He laughed, a hollow sound. The very embodiment of death.

Terrified, Zleke turned and ran. The winds were whipping up the sands now, and visibility was decreasing. Maybe she could get to the cavern before this demon reached her first. Even though she was running as fast as she could Zleke could hear the harsh breathing of the demon gaining behind her. It was only a few more feet to the cavern door. Twelve. Six. Three. Zleke lunged behind the entrance just as the sensation of hot knives tore through her shoulder. She cried out in pain, and turned to see five long black claws raised above her head. The demon was smiling. It was not a friendly smile. I'm going to die, she realized as she raised her arms in front of her head as if to shield herself. She felt oddly calm now. At least she would die with honor. Zleke shut her eyes and waited.

It never came.

Slowly she opened her eyes and winced a little as the now howling sandstorm stung at her eyelids. The demon was staring at her. Or rather, not at her, but at the pendant she still clutched in her frightened hands. Slowly the color was flooding back into his body as he gently reached out and plucked it from her hands. Zleke blinked stupidly. He was now the same stranger she had seen blow up the Marauder earlier.

"Thanks." He said, and passed out on top of her.

Zleke felt the wind get knocked out of her with a whoof. What the hell? Zleke thought, staring at this stranger's face not three inches from her own.

What the _hell?_

_

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_End Chapter one! Hoorah!_  
_


	2. Ch 2:God Complexes and other Faults

Chapter 2! What will happen? Verbs. Lots and lots of verbs.

Hoorah to those that reviewed! I feel special. :)

Enjoy!

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Zleke cursed as she attempted to roll the body of the stranger off of her. It was surprisingly heavy, probably because of all that damn armor he wore. With a grunt she finally managed to roll him off to the side and stood up, now sweaty and full of sand and generally pissed off. She should just leave him here. That would teach him. Damn Spargans coming in and blowing things up and frightening her lizards... 

_You won't leave him._ Her conscience teased. _Not after what you just saw. _

"Shut up." Zleke growled to herself. The stranger stirred.

She stared down at him for a long moment through the howling sandstorm. The penalty for one caught aiding a Spargan was death. He was extremely dangerous, and he was armed, even without his weapon. For all intents and purposes he was trouble incarnate. But her curiosity nagged at her. Why was he not dead? How could he change like that? And why would four Marauders chase him all the way out here?

Zleke shook her head, and hooked her elbows under his armpits. I just know I'm going to regret this, Zleke inwardly moaned. Trouble incarnate was going to have a lot of explaining to do. And he'd better be grateful to do so.

Inside the tunnel leading to the cavern it was cool and dark. The wind still howled, though not nearly as fiercely as it was outside. Zleke could hear the clucking of her lizards in the cavern up ahead. Her muscles were beginning to burn with fatigue. She lay him down for a moment to catch her breath. He coughed.

"Where am I?" He asked groggily, eyelids fluttering open.

"Not dead. Which is amazing in itself. Can you stand?" Zleke asked between pants.

He pushed himself to a sitting position, his eyes focusing blearily on her. There was a long pause.

"You saved me." He said after a moment, more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, well, don't be getting any ideas." Zleke responded uneasily. Damn, why was she even answering? She was the one who was supposed to be asking questions, not him.

"Obviously you don't know who I am." Was he...amused? Zleke couldn't tell, it was too dark to read facial expressions. There came a quiet chuckle. He _was_ laughing at her! How dare he! After all she had just went through!

"No." Zleke admitted flatly, feeling her face redden in anger. "I don't." She shifted uneasily, glancing down the tunnel towards the darkened cavern. Cocky Spargans. She should've known. Maybe this hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all. She turned and took a step further into the tunnel.

"I'm Jak." He said. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her skull. There was a rustling as he pushed off against the wall and stood up.

"Zleke." She said, giving the barest glance over her shoulder, and continued down the tunnel, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Mar, this guy was strange.

A few dozen yards down the tunnel it became too dark to see. Zleke took the pack off her back and fumbled around in it clumsily, attempting to find her yellow eco lamp. She knew it was in here somewhere. Footsteps approached. Zleke was too absorbed in finding the lamp to look up. A blue light cast a dim shadow into her bag. A ha! There it was. She looked up at Jak to grunt thanks for the light.

He was glowing a pale fluorescent blue. And smirking.

"Sweet mother of MAR!" Zleke yelled in surprise, dropping the lamp.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't say things about my mother." Jak said.

Zleke just stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "Great!" She exploded finally. "Just great. Not only do you blow up my kinsmen, you also turn into a monster who tried to kill me, now you...you're _blue_" She spat, feeling the bile rising in her throat. "_And_ you've got a God complex!" She practically screamed.

The light extinguished. Zleke was left panting in the dark. Her pulse was racing, and she took a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down.

"I'm sorry." Jak said quietly.

Zleke would have laughed, had she the strength. "Just..." She began. "Just don't do that anymore." Her voice sounded pathetically weak. She collected the lamp from around her feet and turned the knob on the side, casting a dim yellow glow around the tunnel. Without another word she made her way down the tunnel, Jak following silently after.

A few minutes later they reached the cavern. Zleke could hear the drip, drip, drip sound of water splashing into a pool in the center. Green eco mushrooms growing on the walls provided enough light to see. Her leaper lizards were splashing about in the pool, crowing and generally having a good time. Zleke turned the lamp off. The wound on her shoulder was beginning to throb but she ignored it. Zleke would not show weakness around a Spargan.

Jak walked down to the edge of the pool where the lizards weren't playing and knelt down, dipping his hands into the water to drink. Zleke watched him. The more she observed him, the less she understood. And that was frustrating, especially to her. He glanced over his shoulder at her and Zleke quickly looked away. Hmph. She didn't know why she bothered.

Zleke turned and staked out a good place among the mushrooms to nap. It was going to be a while before this one blew over, she could tell. In the morning she would send Jak on his way and forget all of this ever happened. And good riddance, Zleke thought, stifling a yawn. The guy was far more trouble than he was worth. Dimly she registered Jak taking up a sleeping spot on the opposite end of the cavern. Then she closed her eyes, and entered into a fitful and dreamless sleep.

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End!  



	3. Chapter 3: Stop the War

Hoo boy, looks like I'm in on this one for the long haul. I'm excited to write it, however, and I do hope you are excited to read it. Time will tell. Or it will lie, that bitch.

Anyhoo, Chapter 3 is up! Zleke gets slightly emo and Jak waxes about his past. Someone starts a pile of poop on fire.

Enjoy!

* * *

It was that dream again.

She could see the burning wreckage of the ruined vehicle as clearly in her minds eye as if it had been laying right in front of her. She could even smell the acrid stench of burning motor oil and rubber. Her surroundings were a dim gray fog as she ran towards the crumpled frame as she had done dozens of times before.

"Kvetch." She called in her dream. "Kvetch!"

No answer, like always. Just silence. The sound of wind blowing over the sands.

She wouldn't do it this time, some part of her sleeping mind urged. It was pointless. She knew he was dead. Nothing would change that. But her dream body pressed on.

Just like always.

With a sickening sense of dread she reached the burning hunk of twisted metal. There was a sense of practiced ease as she looked it over, always in the same order. The driver's seat. The turret. The wheels, with one turning lazily towards the sky. All smashed and useless. Then she fell to her knees and looked underneath.

Nothing.

Nothing? Her unconscious mind echoed. That had never happened before. Kvetch was supposed to be dead, and laying right here. Puzzled, she blinked and looked harder.

"Zleke." Came the soundless voice behind her. Zleke rose and turned, then inhaled sharply.

Her brother stood there, though she knew it wasn't him. He wasn't wearing his mask and there was a gray kind of mist where his eyes were supposed to be. His once proudly buffed armor was broken in places and completely stained with a thick shellac of blood. "Zleke." He repeated, spreading his ghostly hands towards her. "I died in vain, Zleke."

A long pause. "Yes." Zleke whispered, "I know." And she did know. Kvetch had died in a reckless, stupid suicide attack on Spargus's gate. He'd died believing that driving full speed into the barrier would make a difference. Obviously it hadn't. The attack had been called off before the gate could be breeched, and the life of her brother was forfeited for nothing. Their chief had brought her the news while she was tending flock. She hadn't cried, as was befitting a Marauder, but her heart had been unbearably heavy for weeks afterward.

"It doesn't have to be this way." He sounded almost pleading. "Please, Zleke."

"Please?" Zleke repeated, stepping towards her brother, to touch him, hug him, anything. "Please what, Kvetch?" Her fingers brushed his arm.

"Stop the War."

* * *

Zleke's eyes snapped open. She was sweating furiously, and her hands were clenched into fists so tight it hurt when she relaxed her fingers. It was a dream, she told herself. Just a dream. Zleke took stock of her surroundings. Her lizards were sleeping in a great lizardy pile against the cavern wall. Jak was nowhere to be seen. Odd. She pushed herself into a sitting position and sighed, like a very old man trying to cool hot soup. It sounded muffled through her mask. Damn thing was a pain. Sudden anger coursed through her veins, and she grabbed hold of its edges and yanked until the leather straps snapped free. She held her mask in her hands, fingering the eyeholes through which she had viewed the world for so long. The sudden breeze felt strange on her naked face.

_Stop the War. _The soundless plea of her brother echoed unbidden through her mind.

It was impossible of course. She was, after all, a shepherd. Zleke didn't even have her own vehicle for Mar's sake. There was certainly no way that all of the continually squabbling Marauder tribes would set aside their differences with each other and Spargus to form a lasting treaty just for _her._ There was too much pride involved, too much machismo. Wastelanders had proven time and time again that the only real lasting glory was not the protection of lives or property but the joy of strength. That was the only thing that was constant in their lives, the one thing that they could count on to form their identities around when the rest of their existence had gone to hell. Strength was their only constant. One that Zleke held in relatively short supply.

Footsteps approached behind her. Quickly she retied her mask around her head as best she could. Maybe breaking it hadn't been such a smart idea. Zleke glanced over her shoulder at Jak, who looked relatively pleased with himself. She supposed it had something to do with the two dead kanga rats he had slung over one shoulder. And the fact that he had found his gun and that weird round thing. Zleke's violet eyes darkened. She still didn't trust him, especially now that he had a weapon.

He dropped one of the dead rats in front of her with a thump, then stared at her as if he expected her to do something miraculous.

Zleke would have appeared disgusted, had she not been wearing her mask. Let us say the disgust oozed off of her in palpable waves. "Do you expect me to eat that raw, Spargan?"

Jak looked momentarily shocked. "Well, uh, I thought... that is, I heard stories..."

"That we bite the heads off of live kanga rats and eat dead babies?" Zleke asked dryly. She shook her head and stood up. "We may appear barbaric to you, Jak, but we do cook our food before we eat it." Zleke reached for her bag and pulled out some steel and flint, as well as some tinder.

"How?" He looked puzzled, but curious. "There's nothing to burn."

"So you think." Zleke smirked to herself. She pulled out her yellow eco lamp from her bag and turned it on, then began scanning the ground for something as she walked. There. She gave the pile of lizard scat a kick to make sure that it was dry. Satisfied Zleke knelt down next to it and in short order had a merry little flame burning off of the dung heap. Luckily the cavern was large enough that ventilation wouldn't be a problem. She dragged one of the rats over and began to clean it with the sharp edge of the flint.

Jak watched her in silence from across the steadily increasing fire. Zleke ignored him and focused on getting the hide off of the rat in one clean piece. The flames crackled and danced in the dim chamber.

"Why did you save me?" Jak asked suddenly.

The question caught Zleke by surprise, and her makeshift knife slipped and cut through her lizardhide glove. Wincing she stripped it off and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sucking on the cut. There was a long silence as Zleke pondered the question.

"I don't know." Zleke said finally, turning her mask away from him.

"Heh." Jak crossed his arms, studying her. "Liar." There was a note of challenge in his voice.

A long pause. Zleke finished cleaning the first rat and nestled it amongst some coals. She peeled off her other bloody glove and tossed it aside, then started cleaning the second rat.

"Because I'm tired of this war." Zleke said finally, her voice curiously empty. "I'm tired of people dying for no reason. Good people. People that could have done great things." Her voice cracked slightly but she didn't care. "I'm tired of death and I'm tired of caring. And I guess I wanted to know why you survived. And why my brother didn't."

Silence. The sound of fat popping and sizzling in the flames. Zleke's eyes slid over subtly to see Jak toying with the pendant he had plucked from her earlier. Suddenly he appeared very, very old.

"It's complicated." He said at last.

Zleke snorted. "What isn't?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

So he told her. Everything he could remember, from his time in Sandover growing up with Daxter, to the dark eco treatments under Baron Praxis and his light eco gifts from the Precursors, from fighting with the Underground to fighting for his life in the Spargan battle arena. And he told her about his friends, especially Daxter, but also Keira, Ashelin, Torn, Sig, Onin and Pecker, Samos... and Damas.

When he had finished Zleke fished the charred flesh of the rat out of the fire and passed him a section. "Hell of a story you've got there." Zleke said, not really knowing what to say. He was right, she didn't really believe him, especially that bit about him being the legenday Mar and all, but she had to admit it explained quite a few things. Especially that pendant.

"Yeah." Jak took a bite of the rat and chewed it cautiously. It was surprisingly good. The two ate their meal in silence.

"Jak." Zleke said after a fashion.

"Mm?" Jak grunted thoughtfully.

"Help me end this war."

Jak shot her a sidelong glance. "Spargus has been trying to do that for years."

"Spargus," Zleke said dryly. "is full of Spargans. I am a Marauder. I know how we think."

"And if I say yes?"

"Then no more people die."

Jak snorted. "You're crazy."

"Welcome to the club." Zleke stood up and brushed herself off. "Besides, you owe me."

"What's to say I shouldn't just shoot you instead?" Jak retorted.

Zleke looked at him for a long moment, then slowly reached behind her head and pulled her mask off. It landed in the dirt with a soft thump.

"Then go ahead and shoot me." She said, her eyes boring into his.

Jak's blue eyes widened ever so slightly. Zleke held her breath.

Finally Jak shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Fine."

Zleke couldn't believe her ears. "Fine?" She repeated, deliberately squeezing her sudden sense of hope out of her voice.

"Fine. But I need to get back to Spargus. I have a few things to take care of."

Zleke nodded as calmly as she could. "Fair enough. I hope you know how to ride."

"You could say that." Jak smirked. "I hope you can keep up."

"Heh." Zleke whistled to her leaper lizards. "Meena!" She called, looking rather smug as her alpha female trotted over. "You're on." She said to the Spargan, before hopping on Meena's back and spurring her up the tunnel, and out of sight.

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End Chapter 3! Good? Bad? You, the viewers decide! 


	4. Ch 4: I believe I can't fly

Chapter 4 is up! I would like to extend my thanks to those that review. Its quite helpful, really. And it encourages the spread of warm fuzzies.

For the record, there is no Marauder citadel in the mountains. Marauders are a scattering of seperate tribes that are bound by quickly changing and dissolving alliances. They have no real permanent place of residence, they just sort of wander all over where they see fit. Which is why they tend to look down on those that live in luxurious things like houses behind walls. Zleke's tribe is relatively peaceful, most of them ranch leaper lizards for a living, but there are also those like Zleke's brother who decide to join the war against Spargus. Marauders still fight each other, but in that sense its more for the joy of competition and rivalry. There's less destruction involved in a Marauder vs. Marauder battle than in a Marauder vs. Spargan battle.

Enjoy!

* * *

Zleke couldn't help snickering to herself as she dismounted from her leaper lizard a short distance up the tunnel. That poor sap of a Spargan. He had no idea just how ornery desert lizards were to people they didn't know. Ha, let him try and ride one! He'd soon see how far he'd get. Still snickering the Marauder quietly padded down to the mouth of the tunnel to watch the festivities.

Zleke peeked around the corner. Ooh, this was going to be good. Jak had selected a particularly nasty lizard to try and tame, a big hulking brute named, well, Brutus. Brutus was nice enough once he got to know you, but he didn't know Jak, and therefore wasn't being nice. His hackles were raised and he was hissing, fanning out his stubby wings to try and make himself look more intimidating. Zleke had to give Jak some credit; standing there with crossed arms and a bemused frown he looked relatively unimpressed.

So much so that he cocked a fist back and punched Brutus in the face.

Zleke's eyes widened in shock. Brutus reeled back, howling and shaking his head in pain. Jak grabbed the lizard by the muzzle with both hands and stared into his eyes. Brutus's vertical pupils narrowed to thin angry slits and his thick tail lashed from side to side like a giant scaly cat's.

Jak's sapphire eyes glared.

Brutus growled, the crest on the back of his head shaking with rage.

Jak bared his teeth and growled back louder.

Brutus's growl died away, then he whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs.

And thus the giant lizard Brutus was tamed.

Jak vaulted onto Brutus's back effortlessly and nudged him towards the mouth of the tunnel. She couldn't believe it. That bastard could even ride bareback too, Zleke fumed. Brutus complied willingly, and Zleke found herself looking up at a very smug Jak.

"See you at the top." He said, and blazed past her in a cloud of dust and humiliation.

* * *

Zleke muttered curses to herself as she retrieved her mask and gloves before walking back to Meena. The shame of being shown up, and on a lizard she had raised herself from an egg, burned her. Hmph. If she didn't need all the help she could get in this war, smartass God-moding monster/blue demons included, she would have... well, done something vengeful. She didn't know what, but it would have been mean and nasty. Yes. Zleke comforted her bruised ego slightly with this thought. She tied on her mask, pulled on her gloves, and hopped on her lizard, musing to herself as they trotted up the tunnel. A mismatched cadence of thuds on the dirt-packed floor behind her signaled the presence of the rest of her herd. Zleke hoped she wouldn't be subjected to any more humiliation. It was exhausting enough just trying to comprehend this guy without being made to look like an utter ass at every opportunity.

Her pity party was cut short by the sight of Brutus standing riderless at the entrance to the desert. She was filled with an immediate sense of suspicion and pulled up on her reins, ears turning this way and that. He didn't look particularly alarmed. Then again, Brutus never looked particularly anything, except maybe hungry.

Silence. The sound of faint voices outside.

"Tracer...found...Haven..." Wisps of a female voice. One cool and calm and obviously used to ordering people around. Zleke slid off her mount and approached the entrance cautiously. The sound of Jak talking, something about a Marauder. Her, Zleke realized with a cold sense of dread. Oh Precursors, was he selling her out? She held her breath. Then a feeling of cold fire began, starting in her stomach and spreading throughout her body. How dare he. Zleke's lip curled back in a sneer. How _dare_ he. Hauling his sorry ass out of the desert, cooking him food, lending him a lizard, busting her own ass on possible pain of death just for him...how _dare_ he sell her out to these pathetic Spargans. Zleke was so incensed that she was shaking. She spun away from the wall and charged out into the blinding heat of the desert sun.

_Ch-chk. _The sound of many weapons being cocked and aimed. Right at her.

Zleke stopped dead in her tracks and stared about her in fascinated horror. Jak and a strange red-headed woman with a skin disease...or were they tattoos, Zleke couldn't tell, were talking casually. Behind them, however, was the largest collection of the largest guns held by some of the largest blue-armored people she had ever seen in her entire life. Several large transports were nestled comfortably in the sands behind them.

Zleke gulped. The red-haired woman asked Jak a question, and he snorted, obviously making some back-handed comment. She turned and waved to the soldiers, and the tips of their weapons dropped slightly. Very slightly.

"Zleke." The woman was saying her name. Zleke turned her attention away from all of the instruments of death to fix her eyes upon the newcomer. Good God, what was that outfit? And those pants? Zleke shook her head in disbelief. Obviously she wasn't from around here.

"Yes?" Zleke said, trying to sound tough and failing. All of those weapons had rattled her composure like a pebble in a box held by a two year old.

"I'm Ashelin Praxis, Governor of Haven City." _Haven. _Zleke threw up a little in her mouth. Thank God she had put on her mask. Zleke hated Haveners more than she hated Spargans, humiliation, and death threats combined. But she obviously had some sway over where all those guns were pointed, so Zleke chose to be diplomatic. She raised her right hand in the traditional greeting of the Marauders, pointer and index finger pointed towards the sky while her other fingers tucked against her palm.

"Greetings, Governor of Haven City." Zleke said as politely as speaking with a Havener would allow. They were tattoos, she realized, but on one's face? How barbaric.

There was a squawking noise behind her. Zleke turned just in time to spot a blue-armored soldier face plant into the sand after diving after one of her lizards. It would have been funny, had the lizards not been hers.

"Jak tells me you pulled him out of the desert." The Governor was saying. Zleke pulled her attention back to the woman in front of her. "I'd like to thank you by giving you a ride back to Spargus."

"That will not be nescessary." Zleke said politely. "I preferr to ride." In reality the idea of riding in one of those transports scared her shitless. Zleke had ridden in a Marauder vehicle only once or twice and that was frightening enough, she couldn't imagine what it would be like to ride in something that lifted off the ground and stayed there.

"I insist." The woman said. There was no trace of friendliness in her eyes. She thinks I'm going to try and kill him out in the desert, Zleke realized. Grudgingly she had to admit it had crossed her mind, but somehow it seemed a lot less funny with umpteen guns pointed slightly below your head. "We wouldn't want your safety to be compromised." You mean his safety, Zleke thought bitterly.

There was a pause as Zleke thought about what to do. "And my lizards?" She asked.

"We can take them with us in the transports if you'd like." There was no ifs or buts about it. Zleke was going with them, like it or not. She managed to nod.

"Very well." She said, and walked as calmly as she could towards the huge metal transport. Her lizards followed after, oblivious as usual. A few soldiers chased them into a seperate transport. Jak and Ashelin trailed behind, and soon the three of them were sitting on an uncomfortable metal bench.There was a whirring sound as the engines started, and the door closed with a metallic bang. _Oh God. _Zleke thought. _OhGodohGodohGodohGod..._The transport lifted off the ground and roared into the sky, rendering a rift between the sands and one terrified Marauder.

* * *

End Chapter 4! 


	5. Huuuuuurrggghhhhhh

* * *

"Chapter Five Haiku" 

Chapter Five Awaits.  
Zleke feels like puking, while Jak  
mourns his father's death.

I so win. Thank you again to all those that review, judging by my hit counter things are going rather well. :) Hooray! You do make a little English Major happy.

Enjoy!

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Aboard the transport that was now skimming over the sands, a miserable and quite nauseous Marauder hugged her knees to her chest. Why, oh why, had she let them convince/force her onto this thing? It was fast and it was loud and the swaying sensation made her feel like she had drunk too much desert tequila. A wave of motion sickness rolled over her and she gripped her legs tighter. Ugggh. Not for the last time Zleke wished that she had just shot Jak and left him out there. He _so _owed her for this, especially this damn transport ride. When they reached Spargus Zleke would make sure that he paid up. She closed her eyes miserably and sighed, as the gentle rocking of the transport slowly lulled her to sleep...

Ashelin had been sitting next to Jak in silence since the three of them had boarded. It had been strange, seeing him alive, but Ashelin knew it would take more than a sandstorm to finish off the heir of Mar. The tracer Jak always carried had proven that. Sig had sent out the message after he hadn't come back from a "drive". Honestly, who went for a drive in the middle of a war? Ashelin smiled slightly. Jak was always crazy like that, she guessed not much had changed. With this war on between the Spargans and the Marauders Spargus couldn't spare any extra soldiers to form a search party, it was too dangerous and they needed all the support they could get just to protect Spargus. Ashelin had stepped in personally to go on the mission. It had been a small thing to divert some troops from the rebuilding of Haven to go pick up the man who had saved it almost single-handedly. But then there was this deal with this Zleke woman... Ashelin didn't know exactly what had happened out there but she was wary of this stranger. She'd heard stories about how absolutely insane and battle crazy they were, even a whispered rumor that they ate babies. A slight shudder traveled through her body. She would have to watch this one. Her armor alone made Ashelin suspicious.

Jak nudged her in the side, then nodded to Zleke. "She's asleep." Ashelin raised an eyebrow at this statement of the obvious before he continued, "We need to talk."

Jak? Talk? That was a new one. Ashelin frowned. "Are you feeling okay?"

Jak didn't answer, but instead stood up and pushed open the metal door leading to the cockpit and disappeared inside. Ashelin shrugged, stood up, and followed him, nodding to the pilot already seated there. "I'll take her for a while. Watch the Marauder for me." The pilot's eyes widened slightly but he nodded and headed towards the back. Looks like he had heard the rumors as well. Ashelin settled into the pilot's chair, with Jak taking copilot. There was a pause.

"So?" Ashelin said, glancing over at him.

Jak was silent for a moment, arms crossed and boots resting on a bare patch of control panel. It was quieter in the cockpit, for which he was glad.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Jak asked dryly. It was a painful way to start a conversation, but it was better than silence.

Ashelin smirked. "Saving your sorry ass." The tone between them was mocking but casual.

"Why?" Slightly more serious.

"Why?" Ashelin said. "Because you saved our asses and nothing short of your own yacht and a solid gold toilet is going to be enough to repay you, so I thought a ride might be a place to start."

Jak shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Why so many troops?"

"There's a war on, Jak, in case you haven't noticed." Ashelin said, slightly irritated.

"Yeah. But a platoon?" He asked.

Ashelin suddenly felt a sense of dread. "It's dangerous." She said warily.

"Seems to me like you were expecting someone. Or looking for a fight." Jak said quietly.

Ashelin didn't reply, but her hands tightened on the joystick and her face tensed ever so slightly. "Why were you out joyriding in the desert in the middle of a war?" She countered.

"I'm tired." Jak said. A simple statement, but Ashelin couldn't have been any more surprised than if he had suddenly started quoting Precursorion poetry and dancing a little jig.

"What?" Ashelin said slowly, unwilling to believe her ears. Jak was never tired. Jak, the hero, son of Damas, heir of Mar and ass-kicking pro extraodinaire. The one charging in and getting things done while everyone else was twiddling their thumbs and calculating risks. The one who had saved the entire _world, _for Mar's sake. He was probably just dehydrated, Ashelin thought suddenly. When they got to Spargus she would insist he drink some fluids.

"I'm tired." Jak repeated, almost plaintive. "I went for a drive because I want answers and I can't find them and I'm tired." His face was impassive.

"Jak..." Ashelin began, not really sure what this was all about. "You're the savior of the world. No one is going to hold it against you if you can't find the meaning of life." She frowned, slightly worried that they were even having this conversation. Since when did he get all deep and philosophical?

"The world doesn't need a hero anymore." Jak swung his legs down from the panel and stared out the window at the shifting sea of sand. The dusky walls of Spargus loomed in the distance. "And that's all I've ever been. So what now?" He laughed, a short bitter laugh. "I'm stuck in the desert, or in Haven, either rebuilding a city that's still afraid of me or fighting a war that's pointless and will never end."

"Spargus needs you, Jak." Ashelin insisted. "Sig even told me in his message that you're their only hope of fending off the Marauder attacks. You're important, cut yourself some slack. Just because the world isn't in peril doesn't mean you're useless. Besides, the war will end someday."

"Yeah." Jak said quietly. "When everyone fighting it is dead." The walls were much closer now, and he could feel the momentum of the transport slowing in preparation for landing.

Ashelin sucked in her breath. Ahh, so that's what this was about.

"Damas would have been proud of you, Jak." She said, gently. There was a hiss as the landing gear deployed and bowed against the hot sands.

He stood up and pushed open the door to the cargo bay. "Proud or not, he's still dead." Jak said flatly, forcefully enough to drive the grief from his voice. Without another word he clomped across the metal floor of the transport and down the still-opening ramp.

* * *

End!(ish)  



	6. Chapter 6: Deja Vu

Ah ha! Another Chapter! My special thanks that those to review, as you guys are Rock Stars in every sense of the words. Yes.

This Chapter is less angsty. Exciting things happen! You'll want to have read Chapter Three to understand the end of this Chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

There was an uneasy rustling in the crowd that had gathered just outside Spargus's walls. Sig and about a dozen Spargans, all armed to the teeth, were staring intently at the transport which had just landed in their midst. They knew it contained one of their own, but any venture outside the walls of Spargus, even a short one, was so dangerous that Sig would take no risks when it came to getting Jak inside safely. The ramp lowered with a pneumatic hiss, and Jak jumped out with an expression that Sig couldn't quite place. Nor was he sure he wanted to. One thing for certain, he didn't look happy. 

"Jak!" Sig called, beckoning him over. "Glad to see you decided not to get yourself killed. What the hell were you doing, drivin off like that?" In the short time between Damas's death and the present Sig had been trying subtly to be the father figure Jak never had, and the results were mixed. Still, he kept trying, partly out of guilt that he was the child Damas had ordered him to find, and partly out of a sense of duty to Spargus's finest warrior.

Jak trudged through the sands over to where Sig and his entourage stood. "I was looking for something." He said, purposefully vague. Jak glanced over his shoulder before looking to the king of Spargus in front of him. Sig gave him a look but Jak ignored it.

"Jak," Sig began, a warning in his tone. "If this is some kind of cheap joke..." Sig trailed off as two more occupants exited the transport, one being the familiar form of Ashelin, and the other...

"Jak!" Sig shot Jak an alarmed look. There were shocked gasps from among the Spargan crowd. "What the _hell_ are you doing bringing a Marauder back here? Have you lost it?" Sig was charging up his peacemaker as he spoke, and it was soon echoed by the whine of a dozen weapons. "The only desert demon I want around this city is a dead one!"

"Hey, relax." Jak said, pushing the tip of Sig's weapon towards the sands, then looked squarely into his eyes. "She saved my life." The sound of charging weapons died away as if it had been cut off with a knife.

Now this absolutely floored Sig. He eyed Jak in a mixture of shock, concern, and contempt. His vision flicked back and forth between Jak and the Marauder before Sig shook his head. "Damn, cherry, I should have never let you go out there. Saved your life, hah! I bet she pulled you out of that sandstorm, too?"

"Yeah." Jak said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well." Sig said, not really knowing what to say. He sighed. "Well well well. You sure got yourself in a fine mess this time. I hope you have a damn good reason for doing this. You know you're not doing her any favors by bringing her back here, Jak. Any of those Marauders see her around Spargus, heh, she can kiss her ass goodbye. You sure you want that?" Sig gazed upon Jak with his one good eye. "And it's not like Spargans are real friendly to outsiders, you know that." Suddenly Sig felt like he was lecturing a small child on the responsibility of keeping a dog. He looked up at the approaching figure of Ashelin, with the Marauder woman trailing cautiously after.

"Sig." Ashelin said, nodding her head in greeting.

"Governor." Sig said, grinning slightly. "Good to see you brought our boy back here. I owe you one."

While Sig and Ashelin were making small talk about the return of Jak Zleke took the opportunity to gaze around here. So this was Spargus. Hmm, it was larger than she thought it would be. Zleke didn't think it would have been so...tall. She marveled for a moment at the great wall surrounding the city, then glanced at Ashelin and Sig.

Sig was continuing to talk with Ashelin, but he also took every opportunity to glare at her during lulls in the conversation. Zleke shifted uneasily. She could hardly blame him for not liking her at first sight, but still, the intensity of his mismatched gaze made her nervous. Time for more diplomacy. Steeling herself for courage Zleke walked up to the pair slowly. Ashelin broke off what she was saying and looked over her shoulder at Zleke. Obviously she hadn't gotten any friendlier on the transport ride over.

"Greetings." Zleke said. Silence was the only thing that returned her hail. The sound of weapons uneasily being scraped against Spargan armor and the lazy whistling of the wind were the only things that could be heard.

"Greetings." Sig said at last, and Zleke felt a chill run down her spine. No wonder he was ruler of this place. She felt a small grain of respect work its way into her mind for these people. They were tough, she had to admit.

"What the hell are you doing in Spargus, Marauder?" Sig asked roughly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "All my years of recon would tell me that you're a spy. And Spargus..." There was a nasty chuckling among the residents. "Hates. Spies."

Zleke gulped, and glanced to Jak. He in turn looked back at her impassively. You figure this one out, he seemed to be saying. It seems she would be going this one alone. "I am no spy." Zleke asserted, her voice wavering, then mentally smacked herself. Brilliant. What a perfect thing to say. Of course a spy wouldn't admit to being one. The Spargans seemed to think the same, and a few coarse guffaws cut through the crowd. One of them muttered something into Sig's ear, and he shook his head and muttered something back. Come on, come on! Her mind yelled at her. You can be smarter than that! Do something! Anything! They were glaring at her more suspiciously now, if that was possible, and a few no longer bothered to put up the pretension of not being ready to shoot her at the drop of a hat. Or a mask.

Hmm...her mask. Zleke felt hope cut like an icy ribbon through her brain wracking. Marauders were forbidden to show their faces to those that were outsiders, maybe that would be something to convince them that she wasn't a complete idiot. It had seemed to work once before. Slowly her hands slid behind her head and she untied the now almost useless leather straps, then pulled it away from her face, staring at the large man in front of her. There was a collective gasp.

"I swear fealty to Spargus." She said, quietly enough so that only Sig could hear.

Delicately she placed it into his hands, closing his fingers around her most precious identity. For the first time, Zleke felt very, very alone. Without her mask, she was nothing to the Marauders. Without the Spargans, she would be nothing to the world. It was a risk she had to take, she knew. Zleke had gone too far to return to being a simple Marauder shepherd. Stopping the war was paramount. Heh, woe betide anyone that disobeyed a vision of their dead brother. She held her breath and waited, fidgeting nervously as the king of Spargus turned her mask over in his huge hands.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, glancing up at her. He seemed slightly less threatening now, almost genuinely curious.

"I am tired of war." Zleke said simply, and it was the truth.

A pause. "I'll be damned." Sig said slowly. "Never thought I'd hear a Marauder in favor of peace. You're a hell of a puzzle, you know that?"

"Yes." Zleke said.

Sig actually laughed. "Well, if that doesn't beat all. Jak, go inside and tell..."

Zleke didn't hear the rest of his sentence as a deafening sound shook the ground she stood on so hard that Zleke actually fell to her knees. There was a scream and mad scrambling as the crowd, both Haven and Spargan, struggling to make sense of what was happening.

Sig swore loudly. "Everyone, get back inside!" Somewhat dazed Zleke stood up and looked around. One of the transports had been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble. Smoke as black as rage floated off the wreckage in bilious clouds.The blue armored soldiers were shouting to one another, diverting the troops to the two remaining transports. Her leaper lizards were unceremoniously chucked out of the transport, and they ran over to her, squawking like frightened reptilian children.

A missle attack. Zleke sucked in her breath. Only one Marauder clan was capable of such weaponry but that was impossible, they...Another missle screamed through the air above them and slammed into the walls with such scorching force that Zleke thought her very mind would break. A ripple travelled along the length of the wall but it held true, a black blemish where the missle had hit. She gathered her lizards around her, wondering dimly what she should do. This shouldn't be happening.

The Kavokas shouldn't be attacking.

They were ex-monks, for Mar's sake. One would think they'd be at least a little peaceful. Zleke swung up upon Meena's back, yes, she could see on the horizon the outline of one of the huge vehicles that was typical of the Kavoka tribe. They tended to keep to themselves, hiding out in the ancient tunnels that had been holed out by desert creatures and then expanded to fit their needs. Rumor had it that they were chucked out of the main order for researching forbidden technology. No one really knew much about them, except for the extremely odd fact that while the weapons they had were always the latest and most deadly, they never used them.

Well, never being until today.

Foreign vehicles, black as night and vicious as the desert itself were screaming over the dunes towards Spargus. Zleke grimly guessed that if their cars were as advanced as their missles, then everyone was in some serious shit. Judging by how fast the Spargans were running towards the slowly opening gate, she wasn't the only one to come to this conclusion. Ashelin and the blue armored soldiers were running along with the Spargans, Zleke figured they didn't want to take a chance on being shot out of the sky in their transports. She hadly blamed them. Half of the crowd had squeezed through the gate when the first of the Kavokan vehicles came tearing over the home stretch to the gate. The lizards screamed in terror, jostling one another to get away from the noise, and to her horror Zleke saw her tiniest lizard, Tika, running full bore away from the gate in her panic.

Straight towards the Kavokans.

"Zleke, get inside!" Ashelin yelled, standing at the edge of the gate. Everyone else was already safely within the confines of the walls, even by some miracle the rest of her lizards. For a brief moment Zleke considered what to do. Then she turned Meena away from the gate and dug her heels into her sides, sand kicking up into her eyes as the two raced away from the gate, after the terrified hatchling. She wouldn't leave her lizards. They were like her family. Meena screamed after the tiny lizard but it was no use, the poor thing was so frightened she probably wouldn't even notice if she ran smack into a brick wall. Zleke glanced up.

Or the grill of a Kavokan racer.

She, Meena, and Tika were all set on a collision course with a jet black racer with angry red stripes, and neither the racer nor Tika showed any signs of slowing down or swerving. Shit, Zleke thought, and she urged Meena harder, lowering her body to decrease wind resistance. Shit shit shit shit...She could feel the rumble of the engine in every pounding step that Meena took, louder, and louder. They were almost within distance, a few more yards and Zleke could reach down and snatch her up.

The Kavokan vehicle screamed metallic defiance.

Zleke narrowed her eyes, leaning over the side in preparation for her grab. Oh damn, they weren't going to make it, it was too close, it..

An impossibly loud roar sailed as if in slow motion past Zleke's head. The driver had swerved. Zleke snatched up the tiny lizard and turned with a sense of cold dread to look at the vehicle that had turned, overcorrected, and was tumbling end over end not a foot in front of her face. The driver was staring at her, brown eyes staring into her soul before they rolled back into his head, time sped forward, and the vehicle impacted, rolled, and finally stopped.

On its back. One wheel turning lazily against the sky. Fire drifting off of the fuselage as if an afterthought.

_Oh God..._Zleke thought, her mind numb. Tika squirmed in her arms, chirping in distress. _But I'm awake..._

_

* * *

_End! Ta!_  
_


	7. Ch 7: Stupid Men

Woo, I am speedy this week. Really this is part two of chapter 6, but it was getting really long and I wanted to post, so I just uploaded the first part and called it good.

Hee hee, this chapter makes me giggle. I agree with you, LunarSquirrel, things were getting a little too formulaic. I think if I had posted the chapter in its entirety it would have been a bit less predictable, but ah well. Time to shake things up a little.

I just realized yesterday that I havenever took the time to properly single my reviewers out, you delightful people. :) Shame on me! **Failedmarshmallow, Jaklover123, Bandit-sama, LunarSquirrel, Brina, RenjiLuvah**(Renji is the shit, btw), and** thecurleGurl:** You guys are my heroes. Seriously. A story is useless if people don't read it, and it makes me really happy that you guys are enjoying it so far. This chapter is for you! (raises glass).

Enjoy!

* * *

For a moment Zleke just stared at the wreck while the other Kavokan vehicles roared past, seemingly oblivious to the fallen comrade in their midst. Huh. That was odd. Most Marauders would have shot her down, for spite. It was another weird thing on what was beginning to be a very long list. Zleke dismounted from her lizard. "Stay." She commanded Meena and Tika, though how much good it would do was anybody's guess. Cautiously she walked the distance to where the transport lay. The resemblance this whole thing had to her dream was absolutely uncanny. Uneasily she ran her hands over the warm black metal. Black. "Who the hell paints their transport black out here?" Zleke muttered under her breath.

"Well you see, we incorporated solar energy into our engine design." Floated a smooth voice up from beneath the wreckage.

"GyyaaaaAAhh!" Screamed Zleke, promptly falling on her ass and scrambling away backwards from the talking scrap pile.

"It's really not that surprising." The voice continued calmly on. "Since black absorbs the most energy out of the visible light wavelengths, we figured it would be a good choice to maximize our output. Plus it just looks cool."

Zleke stared for a moment, blinked, stared again. That wasn't in her dream.

"How the_ fuck _are you alive!" She demanded. The amount of people that were narrowly excaping death out here was seriously creeping her out.

"Language, my dear, language." The voice reprimanded lightly. A male voice, she realized. "As for your question, come see for yourself. I promise I won't hurt you...I'm a bit tied up at the moment for that, you see." He seemed rather amused by the whole situation.

Zleke shook her head in amazement. "I should just kill you instead." She threatened, hoping this would hide how flabbergasted she was. The man was _way _too calm for being trapped under four tons of smoldering metal. For all she knew it was some recorded voice attached to a bomb, or something.

"Ah. That's nice. How will you do it?" Came the reply, as if he was asking about a vacation she was going to take. Zlek balled her hands into fists, furious that he wasn't believing her. But no bomb would make that kind of comeback, she grudgingly admitted.

"I...I'll..." She said, faltering. "I'll shoot you." Yeah, that would show him.

"Madam," He said, and the formality was almost funny. "You and I both know you don't have a gun."

"Yeah, well..." Shit.

"While you decide how you're going to kill me," He interrupted pleasantly. "Could I possibly entreat you to get me out from under here? My brothers will be along shortly to pick me up, and I thought I might save them the trouble. I must have a broken arm, otherwise I would do it myself."

"A broken arm?" Zleke asked in inredulous amazement. Did he think she was born _yesterday_, for Mar's sake? Trying to trick her into releasing him so he could do Mar knows what. Good Precursors, this guy was so full of shit he must cry brown tears. Now thoroughly irritated she got down on her knees next to the transport and looked under, fully ready to give him a telling off that he would never forget. "I'll have you know that I..."

"Boo." Said an upside down male face. His mask was on the ground in front of her. Brown eyes were looking into hers curiously.

"Aaaaagghh!' Shrieked Zleke, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

The man was obviously struggling to hold back his laughter. Struggling and losing fantastically. His features were fine, with high cheekbones and a chestnut braid hanging off the side of his face. The Marauder armor he wore was a weather-worn tan color.

"That's not funny!" Zleke yelled, her cheeks flushing crimsom.

"No, no its not. I'm sorry." He chuckled once more, then his face grew serious. "The release to my harness is right by my left hand. If you push the button on it it should get me out of here."

A harness. Zleke looked at the thick cloth straps that were holding him securely upside down, puzzled. What a good idea, why hadn't anyone around here thought of that? Heh, not that she would actually be so stupid as to actually let him...

Blood dripped down into the shadow in the sands in front of her. Zleke followed the trail of drops upward, looking in horror at his right arm which was bent at a sickening angle against itself above his head. His left arm was pinned by a steel beam against his side. He wasn't lying. He really did have a broken arm.

"Good God..." She said, nauseated at the sight. "Why aren't you screaming?"

"Waste of energy." He said cheerfully, though Zleke thought she could hear a hitch of pain in his voice.

There was yet another explosion in the distance, and Zleke stood up long enough to peek over the wreckage of the vehicle and spot the burning carcasses of the two remaining transports. The other Kavokan vehicles were circling around the wreckage, probably making sure that no one was left alive.

"I am sorry about the wall." He said quietly, his voice drifting up to her. "We never meant to hit Spargus. Only the transports. It was a shame they got as close to the city as they did."

Zleke saw it was true. Apart from the one black mark on the wall where the missle had smashed into, Spargus was untouched. Her eyes narrowed. She had been on that transport not half an hour ago. What the hell made him think that it was okay to just blast someone out of the sky like that?

"I was on that transport." Zleke said angrily, squatting down to glare at him. "I never did a damn thing to you."

"I know." He replied. Zleke's eyes widened. "We've been watching you ever since you rescued Mar." The pool of blood in the sand had grown to be the size of her head. "That's why we didn't shoot it down. We're only interested in the Haveners. Although..." He looked her up and down. "Why were you on that transport, anyway?"

"I..." Zleke started, then snapped her mouth shut, becoming acutely aware that she was now talking to the enemy. Anyone who got in the way of peace was an enemy. Even a Marauder. "None of your business. And why are you telling me this, anyway?" She said, becoming a little paranoid.

He merely smiled. "In case I die here." He was calm, matter of fact. It was definitely possible, given the sandy pool of blood beneath him. Suddenly Zleke felt a little bad for the guy. Just a little.

"Oi, Brother Marek!" A thickly accented voice called over the roar of machinery. Three Kavokan vehicles drew up alongside the busted one, and a tall, lanky man jumped out. "Get yourself in a spot of trouble, did you? Hope its nothing terminal." His tone was easy, joking, and he was dressed in the same manner as "Brother Marek" trapped under the vehicle. He strolled casually over to where Zleke was sitting, and she scooted away from him nervously. He winked at her before peering under at Marek.

"Hmm...we'll need the chains for this one, Marek. Don't worry," He said, standing up. "We'll have you out of there in..."

**BANG**.

The man fell backwards into the sand, a bullet hole neatly between the eyeholes of his mask. Zleke saw that his eyes were still staring friendly out at nothing, and her stomach went suddenly queasy. "Shit!" One of the other monks screamed. "I thought you said they couldn't reach us from there!"

"They can't! Our recon-"

"Fuck the recon! Yeg is dead! If they've got high powered snipers we won't last five minutes out here!"

"What about Marek, we're not-"

"We've got to." One said, with a terrible finality. "We're sorry, Marek." The ex-monk called, his voice tense with grief and stress. "You know how it is."

"Yeah." Floated Marek's voice up from the overturned vehicle. "I know. See you around boys. Before they reload." He was quiet, resigned. Oddly peaceful.

"Oh God, Marek..." Whatever his fellow monk had to say was drowned out by the sound of gunning engines and squealing tires as the Kavokans zipped over the sands into the distance.

Gingerly Zleke pushed the dead man away from her, rolling him onto his stomach so his amiable stare wouldn't haunt her anymore. Ugggh. Dead bodies gave her the creeps. Hesitantly she looked under the vehicle at Marek. His eyes were closed, as if in prayer.

"Leave me." He said gently, opening one eye to look at her. He didn't look angry, or sad, or anything. Just sort of stunned.

"No." Zleke said flatly, finding the release button to his harness and pushing it. The straps slid up into the seat and Marek fell to the ground, grunting in pain. "You are my prisoner. I'm going to end this war, and you're going to help me. Besides, I want some answers out of you." She asserted as she gingerly hooked her arms around his armpits and pulled him out from the small space.

"Your prisoner." He smiled slightly, looking up into her face.

"Yes. Don't laugh." She warned, glaring at him. "Besides, monks aren't supposed to go about blowing up transports anyway. I'm really doing you a favor."

"Heh." He closed his eyes, looking suddenly pained. "If you only knew."

"Knew what?" Zleke demanded.

But there was no answer. Marek had passed out.

"God damn men never giving any straight answers." Zleke muttered, being careful not to jostle his broken arm too much as she laid him down in the sand. Hell, they were useless. Couldn't even take care of themselves, otherwise why would she be saving so many lately?

* * *

End! 


	8. Ch 8: Bad Resource Management

Short Chapter! Ooh ooh, plot twist! The real reason Ashelin is in the desert! And also subtle references to penis size. (hee hee) My reviewers are like Gods.

DISNEY I'M REALLY REALLY SORRY. And please don't sue. I don't own nuttin.

Enjoy!

* * *

Ashelin stared out at the desert in shock. That Marauder woman had just run off into the jaws of certain death. Willingly. Enthusiastically, even. 

Over a lizard. A filthy, stupid reptile.

She shook her head in disgust, her mind already turning to the more important matters at hand. Very important matters, indeed. Her stride quickened as she pushed her way through the throng to where Jak and Sig were attempting to get the crowd under control.

"Jak!" Ashelin called, jogging the few steps over to him. "Jak, I need your help." She said. Her hand brushed his arm. It was warm, smooth; finely toned muscles rippling beneath perfectly tanned skin. Her breath caught in her throat. She was so close to him now, even that passing touch brought back a flood of memories. How long had it been?

"Ashelin?" Jak said, looking puzzled. Startled Ashelin realized she had been staring. No time for that train of thought now. Quickly she composed herself.

"Jak. I need you to get me to the top of the wall." Ashelin said, her voice powerful with urgency. "And I need a really. Big. Gun." Her hands spread wide to emphasize.

Jak couldn't help but smirk at this. "How big?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning devilishly.

Ashelin rolled her eyes to draw attention away from the fact that her face was becoming the same shade as her hair. "Enough. Just get me to the top."

"Now just hang on a minute there!" Interrupted Sig, having delegated organizing the newcomers to the other Spargans. "What the hell is going on out there?" He demanded, pushing one finger into Ashelin's chest. She rocked backwards on her heels, but stood firm. A muffled boom travelled through the ground below them.

"Lord Sig! The Kavokans are attacking the transports!" A Spargan interrupted as he ran over to them, slightly out of breath.

Sig looked slightly irritated. "Tell me something I don't know, cherry."

The Spargan shook his head. "That's...all they're attacking sir. Apart from the one hit on the wall, our defenses are untouched. The transports appear to be the only things they are interested in. I've never seen anything like it." His eyes were wide.

Sig grunted. "The Kavokans never come outside. Hell, nobody's seen one in daylight for over a decade. What in Mar's name did you do to piss them off so badly?" Sig asked, turning to face Ashelin gruffly.

Ashelin looked grim. "Sig, Jak, I need your help."

Sig's eyes narrowed. "You didn't answer my question." He crossed his arms, studying her.

Ashelin shook her head. "Haven City is running out of eco. Vin says we have three months, maybe four, before its all gone." She looked up, staring Sig in the eyes, then Jak. "If we don't find any more eco quickly..." She trailed off, looking out into the desert. "Well, a lot of people could die. As many as two hundred thousand."

"_What?"_ Jak said in surprise, his mouth dropping slightly.

"The Hell?" Sig demanded. It was obvious this announcement didn't please him. "So you decided to follow up on dear old daddy's plan, eh? Take out all the Wastelanders and reclaim the land so you could strip mine it? I thought you were better than that, Ashelin." His cybernetic eye was glowing an angry red.

"What?" Jak repeated, looking to Sig, then Ashelin. "Strip mining?"

Ashelin frowned. "I'd never do half the things my father did." She sighed. "Towards the end of the metalhead wars, my father received reports that the city was running out of eco. The war was using it up faster than anyone had anticipated. He sent out scouts to find new eco-rich spots. One of them was the Wasteland. The Kavokans found out about his plan to strip-mine the desert and have been hunting us ever since." Ashelin paused. "My father died before anything could be done. That's why I've come out here, Jak." She smiled a little, a defeated smile. "Without eco the city cannot function. People can't move around, can't transport in food, can't transport out goods...without eco Haven will be reduced to a place of rot and death. Two hundred thousand people." Her voice was slightly softer now. "I need your help."

Sig grunted. "Why should we help Haven after all they've done to us?"

"I'm prepared to offer a trade." Ashelin said. "I help you win this war. You help me with Haven's eco problem. Not even strip mines, just a few platforms. You get the Marauders off your backs, and Haven stays alive. Everybody wins."

A pause. "I'll think about it." Sig said, uncrossing his arms. "Jak, get Ashelin to the old sniper turret on top of the wall. I don't want those Kavokans back here anytime soon. And Jak?"

"Yeah?" Jak said, eyebrows quirked in interest.

"Whatever you do; don't tell the Marauder about this conversation. Got it?"

"Got it." Jak said, a fleeting look of confusion flickering over his face before he turned to lead Ashelin up to the rickety old sniper turret on top of the wall.

* * *

Several minutes later Zleke walked over the threshold of Spargus, Tika darting between her legs and Meena slightly labored under the burden of the injured unconscious Kavokan. Her herd of lizards squawked in greeting. Sig was already standing there, leaned against the door to the city. 

"I see you brought a friend." He pushed off against the door and walked over to her. His steps were slow and measured.

"I have brought a prisoner." Zleke asserted, somewhat proudly. She'd never taken anyone prisoner before. Much less an ex monk.

"Prisoner. Heh." Sig seemed somewhat amused. Then the smile dropped off his face like a sack of lizard scat. "If you didn't know Jak, I would've killed you the minute you walked off that transport. And I'm not so sure as to why I shouldn't do it now." He took a few steps around her, measuring her up.Zleke felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

"I am useful." She said, not quite as proudly as before. "I know every inch of this desert. My lizards are the strongest and fastest." She paused, thinking of what other things she should add. "And I didn't kill Jak, when I should have." Zleke said finally, naked purple eyes looking at this imposing man in front of her.

Silence. Sig staring right back at her. Finally he grunted, and pulled the injured man off of the lizard and slung him over his shoulder. "Kliever!" Sig called, and the largest man Zleke had ever seen stepped through the door to the city.

"Yes, your lordship?" The man named Kliever said. Zleke stared in fascinated revulsion. He smelled like garbage and used eco fuel. He caught her eye and leered ever so slightly. Ewww...Zleke shuddered, already deciding she did not like this man.

"Take the prisoner over to the Sick house. I want him under full surveillance, 24/7, until he's well enough to talk, got that?" Kliever nodded, shouldering the prisoner. "And as for you..." Sig said, turning to Zleke. She cringed despite herself. "There's some help needed in the kitchens. I'll take you to them."

The kitchens. Zleke blinked. The _kitchens?_ How was working in the kitchens going to help stop a war? Zleke wasn't aware of any militant vegetable uprising. Surely a Marauder of her caliber was worth far more than just peeling potatoes. She opened her mouth to protest.

"You got a problem?" Sig asked roughly, seeing her indignation. "You're lucky its wartime, otherwise you'd be thrown in the arena to battle it out for your life. Can't afford those kind of casualties now. So be grateful. Alive and in the kitchens is better than out there," and he turned to face her. "and a traitor."

Zleke paled and bit her tongue. Sig spoke the truth, if her tribe found out about what she had done she would most certainly be executed. Suddenly she felt a wave of homesickness. Her tribe. Well, there was no going back to that now. Silently she followed along in the shadow of the Sand King, wondering what her new life would bring.

* * *

End! 


	9. Ch:9 Hey, hey, the gangs all here!

This chappie was a bit slow in the making, but man, when I got going it was like an impressively fast moving thing. And stuff.

So, the plot thickens! Keira, Dax and Torn _finally _arrive! The more I write this the more of a romantic bent I'm inclined to put into it. Not just straight romance, mind you, I'm not nearly fluffy enough for that kind of stuff. But its now springtime, at least where I live, and that means thoughts of (insert your own verb here) are in the air.Yours truly's air included, blast it all. Tell me honestly, what do you guys think of what's happening so far? And don't be afraid to be honest cuz I'm an English major. I assure you, English majors are more than capable of writing crap. I've written my fair share. So let me know what you think, if this makes you think. If not, that's cool too. If you're apathetic and just want to read the damn story, I appreciate that as well.

Read and Enjoy, my friends! Read, and Enjoy.

(P.S. I have over 600 hits on this story now! I dunno if that's a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it makes me feel special. Thank you all very much. :) )

* * *

Jak stood and stared in amazement as Ashelin hopped off the rickety old gun turret atop the wall of Spargus. She looked rather smug. Jak could hardly blame her. Taking down someone at 150 yards with a turret older than Samos was something to be proud of.

"Nice shot." He said finally, not really knowing what to say. Jak gazed past her out at the wreckage of the Kavokan vehicle, straining for a glimpse of the Kavokan she had so recently dispatched.

"Don't mention it." Ashelin said, brushing past him. "We have bigger problems now. That shot should scare the rest of them off, but they'll be back, make no mistake." She leaned over the wooden railing to the stairs, staring down the spiraling circle. "That Marauder woman is insane. I hope for all our sakes she's really on our side, Jak. I'm not going to lie to you, it seems sketchy to me."

"I got thrown out of Haven for being "sketchy"." Jak retorted, cerulean eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Hell if I know why she's here, but we need the help. Haven isn't the only one with problems, you know."

"I know, Jak." Ashelin said quietly. "But one spy, one tipoff from the Kavokans, and you might as well knock down these walls for all the good they'll do to protect you. The Kavokans are dangerous, Jak. If she's with them-" She paused, then continued quietly. "It's said that they have technology of the Precursors. They could probably bring down all of Spargus in a week if they tried ."

"I don't believe that." Jak said, catching her arm. "Tell me what's really going on here. Why choose the Wasteland as a drilling site? And what do Marauders have to do with eco wells?" It was only a few of the questions he would have liked to ask. His mind traced back to a time not so long ago when the distance between them was not so great in any sense of the word. Those curves, that voice...Jak shifted, slightly uncomfortable at the memory, but his hand held firm.

Ashelin scowled, then relented, seeing as Jak wasn't letting go. "The Wasteland is a huge source of eco. Millions of barrels lie in the rock underneath the dunes. For the risk, it's the greatest payoff." She pulled away from him, her eyes locked with his. Jak saw that her fists were clenched slightly. A slight breeze ruffled her red dreadlocks.

"And the Kavokans?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"They're not Marauders, Jak. They're monks. Or they were. Nobody ever gets close enough to confirm anything. Our intel is a little shoddy on them lately. As I'm sure you've noticed. " She thumbed in the direction of the burning carcasses of the transports. "They... had a disagreement with my father."

"Big surprise." Jak said, snorting softly.

"Yes." She paused for a moment, searching for what to say, then sighed. "It's complicated. I don't know how to explain it."

And luckily for her at that moment she didn't have to. Her communicator crackled and sputtered. "Ashelin, Ashelin this is Torn. Can you read me?" The faint voice of Torn could be heard over waves of static. Ashelin snatched her communicator off of her hip.

"Ashelin here. Report, Commander." Ashelin said, relieved for the distraction and at once all business.

"Thank Mar, it's good to hear your voice. You scared us back there. What the hell happened? And how did you manage to blow up not two but three of my transports all at the same time?" His voice was rough, as usual, but there was a smidgen of playfulness behind it. Ashelin rolled her eyes.

"We ran into some Kavokans. They're the ones that took out the transports. Looks like they're better informed than we thought." She gazed over the top of the wall at the black smoke and ashes that were billowing from the ruined transports.

"Heh. I always hoped we'd never see them again." Torn chuckled grimly. "So that other scrap pile out there is Kavokan then? Are the troops okay?"

"Affirmative. One of the locals decided to play chicken with that Kavokan racer. The troops are inside Spargus. Everyone is accounted for."

"Good. Tell the citizens the marketplace is closing early today. Torn out."

Jak blinked. Ashelin swore. "What the hell does he mean, the marketplace is..."

Whatever Ashelin had to say was drowned out by the roar of jet engines. A blue streak flashed across the sky and circled round, swooping over the city of Spargus in lazy circles. It was Torn, smirking down at them from a repainted Hellcat. He waved once, then pulled away and drifted down for a landing inside the city walls. Even from where they stood Jak and Ashelin could hear swearing, chickens squawking, and the crashing of stalls. They both winced.

"Sure knows how to make an entrance." Jak muttered, shooting Ashelin a knowing sidelong glance. Then he hopped nimbly over the railing to the old wooden staircase and disappeared below. Ashelin smiled, a bit wistfully.

"Yes he does." Ashelin remarked to herself, half amused, half disgusted, as she descended the stairs like a normal person. Torn, Torn, Torn. Some things just never changed.

* * *

The marketplace was as chaotic as if someone had just landed right in the middle of it with a large cruiser. Which, incidentally, someone had, and he was leaned nonchalantly against the cruiser trying to ignore the looks of death he was getting from the marketplace shopkeepers. The actual damage wasn't too bad, just a few cracked stall frames and some bruised fruit, but that hardly made the Spargan merchants any happier that their day had been so rudely interrupted. That it happened during wartime didn't help any either. Discontented muttering and the caressing of weapons rippled through the crowd as Jak and Ashelin pushed their way through to where Torn was standing. 

"Torn!" Jak said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Jak. Glad to see this place hasn't killed you." Torn said, grinning in that slightly creepy way of his.

"Either that or he's just too stubborn to die." Carried a female voice from the cruiser. Keira hopped out, her fine featured face a little smudged with oil. "Torn, your equalizers are giving out. I'd have them replaced as soon as possible." She walked over to the three slowly, wiping her hands on a dirty rag.

"Keira..." Jak said slowly, his eyes widening. Keira ignored him, but she bristled a little at the sound of his voice. Torn and Ashelin exchanged slightly more friendly looks. Neither Torn nor Ashelin knew what had gone on between these two but it didn't look like a fairytale, that was for sure.

"I came because you're not going to win this war without a decent mechanic. If the drive train on one of those dune buggies you have gives out while you're out fighting we're all screwed." Her voice was short, matter of fact. "And Haven needs the help." She admitted, somewhat grudgingly.

There was a pause. "I see." Jak said. His voice was cooler now. "Thanks." Jak averted his eyes, and was that pain in his voice? There was an uneasy silence. Ashelin, ever the diplomat, opened her mouth to change the subject but was cut off by a rodent-like squeal.

"Jak!" Daxter screeched, having finally extricated himself from the cruiser. He scampered over to the group and wasted little time in taking his customary perch atop Jak's shoulder. "Long time no see, buddy. How's life in the sandbox treatin ya?" He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his beloved blue pants, grinning widely.

Jak merely smiled. "Hey Dax. Life is great." He spared the barest glance over to Keira at this. "C'mon Dax, we have stuff to catch up on." He turned slightly to leave.

"Indeed you do." Interjected a cool voice. Jak's ears prickled. That voice. Something about it set him immediately on edge. He looked for the source of it but all he could see were the confused faces of the marketplace goers. The crowd seemed to sense danger too, for it milled and parted to reveal a single injured man in strange armor standing twenty feet away from the cruiser. He seemed totally calm with the whole situation, despite the fact that one arm was in a sling and he was using a badly battered Peacemaker to support most of his weight. "You have much "stuff"," the man said quietly. "To talk about indeed." He took a few hobbled steps towards them.

"Who are you?" Jak growled, resting a hand on his gun. Torn immediately whipped the pistol he carried off of his thigh and cocked it, Ashelin following immediately after. Keira slipped away from the people with weapons back into the cruiser and out of any potential line of fire. A few civilians shouldered their weapons as well.

"Who I am is not important." The man said, flicking the long thick chestnut braid that was resting on his ear behind his shoulder with a toss of his head. "It is what I have to say that you should take heed of." He leaned on the Peacemaker, staring at each of them intently. His gaze was powerful, but mild; it was obvious that even with his current injury he was a man to be reckoned with.

"And?" Daxter demanded, hopping down on the ground in front of Ashelin, Jak, and Torn. "We haven't got all day you know. Lay your important message on us, oh mysterious one." Daxter said, giving a mock bow. "Jak, can you believe this guy?" He asked, thumbing in the man's general direction. Jak rolled his eyes.

"Mar." The man said quietly. Jak's eyes narrowed suspiciously, how did he know his true name? "Beneath your feet lies the lifeblood of the planet. Tamper with it, and you tamper with the nature of the planet itself."

"You're one of the Kavokans." Ashelin growled, her eyes flashing dark with anger. A woman next to her gasped and clutched her small child against her. "No, it couldn't be!" "Impossible!" Anxious whispers flittered through the crowd like a restless flock of birds. Torn's grip on his gun tightened, and Daxter conveniently skittered behind Jak's legs.

"I am that, Governess. Brother Marek, to be precise. A pleasure to meet you." He bowed slightly, no trace of irony whatsoever. "I apologize for our earlier run in." Ashelin blinked incredulously, it was if the man was apologizing for walking on her lawn as opposed to blowing up three government vehicles. "But this is no place to chat." Marek said, appearing for the first time to notice the setting that they all were in. "Might I suggest we retire to somewhere more private?"

"There you are!" The angry voice of Sig carried over the murmuring voices of the astonished onlookers. Immediately they fell away from him as if in a great wave, leaving a clear path beneath the injured Brother Marek and the Lord of Spargus. Excited whispers ran through the crowd, only Lord Sig was powerful enough to dispence justice to a Kavokan. Angrily he charged through the crowd, the whine of the Peacemaker cutting through the whispers like a bugle announcing the impending destruction.

"Oh dear." Marek sighed mildly. "It appears my escaping from the sick house has been discovered. Ah well." Marek didn't turn to glance at his incoming foe, but his ears were twitching slightly, pinpointing the location of his footfalls. His right foot was creeping out slowly, the more experienced fighters among the crowd would notice that he was subtly redistributing his weight, perhaps in preparation for an attack. Marek flashed a brief smile to each of them, wizened eyes gleaming in his relatively young face. "So it goes."

There were only a few steps left between Sig and Marek. Jak knew better than to interfere, Sig had most likely taken Marek's escaping as a personal injury to his pride. And nobody carried a deeper or more bitter grudge than Sig. It was a matter of honor now, and injured or no Marek would have to face what he had brought upon himself. Marek's eyes closed halfway, pupils flickering beneath the lowered lids. Unconsciously the trio and a half held its breath.

"Turn around." Sig growled, the whine of his Peacemaker at its highest pitch. There would be no mercy. Marek glanced over his shoulder at Sig, a faint half smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Then, so quickly that even Jak had a hard time following the movement, he bent almost double backwards, his uninjured hand finding a neat hold with which to propel himself up off the ground and backward, all while still holding his own Peacemaker. He seemed to hang in the air above Sig for a moment, good arm outstretched, legs tucked loosely underneath him, a serene expression on his face. Then he landed neatly behind the King of Spargus, and before anyone could react he had his own Peacemaker across Sig's throat in a stranglehold, one half of the weapon across Sig's shoulderblade to use as leverage.

"You have chosen an unwise time to interfere." He said, murmuring quietly so that only Sig could hear. Sig was struggling to breathe, writhing against the weapon at his throat. "I do wish our conversation could be held on more favorable terms." Marek shrugged slightly. Ashelin tugged at Jak's shoulder.

"Shouldn't we do something?" She whispered. Jak shook his head. No matter how much he would have liked to step in and blow the Kavokan's head off, Sig would never allow it, nor any proper Spargan for that matter. So he crossed his arms and watched, uneasily.

"You dirty son of a bitch." Sig growled between gasps. "I should have known you were in with that Marauder."

"The Marauder?" He seemed amused. "No sir. I came here to prevent our lovely Governess from sucking the life out of the planet. The Marauders have their own affairs," At this point Sig ducked under the weapon at his throat and threw a punch at Marek's head. He sidestepped it neatly. "we do not meddle in them when we can avoid it. Nor yours. Its simply too messy." Marek flipped his Peacemaker so that it was tucked underneath his shoulder, ready to lash out at any moment like an inverted scorpion's tail. "But the planet," He continued, circling the king slowly. "Now that is another matter. It is unfortunate that our negotiations had to come to violence, but there was no other way. I assure you it wasn't for our lack of trying."

Sig's eyes followed the roving Marek, both hands tightening on his own Peacemaker. "Negotiations, hah. You really expect me to believe that?" Sig challenged, silently gauging where Marek would pause next.

"Not really. The Governess didn't. In fact, she seems quite hell bent on continuing the war that her father himself started." Marek paused and winced, his good hand floating to his ribs momentarily. Instantly Sig charged in, knocking Marek's Peacemaker to the ground and pointing his own weapon at his throat. Marek's eyes fluttered in momentary shock and pain, but he continued, obviously determined to press on. "Come, Lord Sig. You didn't think a war such as this, one that has gone on so long, would have started all by itself, did you?"

"What are you saying?" Growled Sig, the whine of his weapon charging up again backing the ferociousness of his words.

"What I am saying is that Baron Praxis deliberately started this war. He sent in troops disguised as Spargans to raid the food supplies of the Marauders, rape their women, burn what villages they had, anything to provoke them to war. And he succeeded." Marek's eyes slid over to Ashelin, who was standing rigid and stonefaced between Jak and Torn. "What's more," Marek continued quietly. "The raids on the Marauders haven't stopped since. Even after his daughter took the throne. Don't you find it odd that she has yet to resolve the City Council? Or appoint new advisors? Or even hold elections?" Marek laughed quietly. It was not a happy laugh. "Most of all, don't you find it odd that the Governess would find it so difficult to keep her own military, albeit perhaps now ex-military, from going after tribes of virtually defenseless desert nomads?"

"Is this true?" Sig demanded, never taking his eyes off of Marek, even for a second, but doubt was inherent in every subtle movement that he made. "Does this man speak the truth, Ashelin? Did Baron Praxis start this war?"

There was a long silence. Ashelin was staring straight ahead at nothing, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Of course its not true, right Ashelin?" Torn said, attempting to keep the look of doubt from his face. "I knew every in and out of the Krimson Guard while in Haven. If something like that ever happened I would be the first to know about it." He turned to Sig, his argument gaining speed. "I can tell you, there's no way the KG ever-"

"No, Torn." Ashelin said quietly, lifting her gaze to meet Sig's. "It's true."

* * *

dun Dun DUN! End! 

Until I write again, adios. :)


	10. Ch:10 Catfights and Conspiracies

Oooh, I am a bad bad author.

Life, unfortunately, sometimes tends to get in the way of the important things. Like writing fanfiction. Such is the case with me and the last three months. But I haven't died! Whether or not that is a good thing, of course, is up to you.

Second item on my agenda. HOLY CRAP 1000 HITS! 1000 exactly, even! What a fabulous surprise on my return to the ficverse! **Thank you, thank you, thank you** to all that read, it makes me so happy that people are reading(and maybe enjoying) this fic.

Alright, now to address some questions.

Zleke is pronounced like sleek, except with a z instead of an s...you get the idea.

AU, to the best of my knowledge, stands for Alternate Universe. I.E, what would happen if Jak X never happened and a whole bunch of other things went wrong instead.

Storywise, here's whats happening. Torn, Keira, and Daxter arrived and caused a little mayhem in the marketplace. Marek busted out of the sick house and got in a fight with Sig. Ashelin has just revealed to the entire city of Spargus that her late father good ol' Baron Praxis is responsible for starting the long and bloody Spargans vs. Marauders war.

Maybe this wasn't so fluffy after all. But there will be fluff, I promise.

Go on and read already!

* * *

For a long while, no one spoke. Ashelin's face was as dull and expressionless as the miles of rolling sand dunes outside the city walls. The crowd was eerily silent, the only audible noise that could be heard was the wind fluttering tattered rags and the confidence of an entire city. 

"It's true." She repeated, quietly. "Mar help me, if I could have stopped him I would have, but with our own war-"Ashelin broke off midsentence, defeated, the futility of trying to explain to an entire city why a quarter of them had died in a needless war finally sinking in. Marek cleared his throat and delicately pushed Sig's peacemaker away from his jugular.

"Perhaps it would be better if we could discuss this in a more private-" he began diplomatically.

"Like HELL!" A man's voice exploded. It appeared the fog of shock that had come after Ashelin's admission was wearing off. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd and pointed a finger trembling with rage at Ashelin. He was unkempt and wild looking, it appeared as though he hadn't slept in days. People around him shied away nervously.

"She started this! All of those bastard Praxises are alike, I knew it." He spat vehemently on the sand in front of him. Ashelin winced. "You're the reason we have to spend every day under siege from those barbarians. You're the reason we're running out of food. You're the reason my wife and son are dead!" He punctuated his sentences by stabbing his finger into the air.

"Get a hold of yourself, Tulk!" Sig barked, deciding that the insane widower was more important than the injured monk at the moment and turning to face him. "Ashelin wouldn't let anyone under her start a war for politics!"

"You killed them. YOU KILLED THEM!" He screamed, stamping his feet in unadulterated fury. "And I'll be damned if I just let you walk away with it!" He screamed, a high pitched, inhuman sound of pure rage and charged at Ashelin, all sense wiped out of him by his grief. People scattered out of the way. Ashelin stared at the madman, too shocked to even move a muscle.

A single shot rang out.

Tulk stopped short and stumbled, a look of confusion crossing his face. With trembling hands he reached up to his chest and felt the red stain there.

"You killed them." He whispered, locking eyes with Ashelin. Then, with a gurgling sob he pitched forward into the sand and died.

Torn reholstered his still smoking pistol into its rightful place at his thigh. "Let's get out of here." He said bluntly, grabbing Ashelin's arm. He leaned in towards her ear and whispered. "This is going to get ugly." Ashelin nodded numbly and allowed herself to be led away from the body, the blood, and into the palace.

* * *

Torn was right. 

As soon as they left all hell broke loose in the marketplace. Tulk's death had intitated a tsunami of turmoil inside the desert walls. Stalls were broken. Pots were smashed. Cactuses were rendered into mounds of useless pulp by a city that had just had everything it knew for truth taken away from it. Sig spent the better part of an hour trying to get everyone calmed down, shouting over and over again that they were to remain calm, that rioting would get them no where, that Ashelin was innocent and it was her father that was to blame. All of it fell on deaf ears, and it was only the eventual exhaustion brought on by such a violent fit that made the people leave off their destruction and take their sorrow and anger home.

Ashelin watched from the palace's guest room as the last of the rioters headed for home, in their weariness dragging their peacemakers behind them like children's pulltoys. She sighed and rubbed her temples. "What a mess." She groaned, glancing over her shoulder at Torn who was leaning against the door to the hallway. "This is going to take years to sort out."

Torn was silent, consternation brewing between his brows like a thunderstorm. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked at last. His voice was neutral, but that didn't do anything to hide the look of betrayal that lurked in his gaze.

"What good would it have done, Torn? We couldn't do anything to stop him, not with the resources we had. It was hard enough just trying to keep our own people alive without worrying about some desert tribe-"

"Then you let them die, Ashelin. That man was right. You effectively killed them." He didn't look up at her, and his voice was cold.

Ashelin's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed to angry slits. "Fine. And I suppose you would have come up with a plan to save everybody and restore eco to Haven, huh?" She jabbed an angry finger into his chest. "Well let me tell you something Commander." She whispered. "I did my damndest trying to keep Haven alive, and I think for what I had I did a damn fine job. So don't go yelling at me when the remnants of my father's twisted plan come back to haunt us. Now get out."

Torn looked at her coldly for a moment. "Fine." He said, pushing her hand away from his chest and stalking out the door, slamming it behind him.

Ashelin stood there more a moment, breathing angrily. How dare he imply that she had done any less than her very best in leading Haven. That Marek was full of crap anyway. Elections for the Council were in the works, they were expanding their police force, and as soon as they got a ready supply of eco back they could start tracking down who was behind all of the Marauder murders. She could refute every point that that monk had brought against her. She reached out and placed a hand next to a mirror on the wall, looking down at the ground.

"Then why," She muttered, glancing up at her reflection. "do I feel so terrible?" A haggard, tired looking woman stared back at her. She was also rather dirty. Ashelin made a face. I could really use a bath, she thought. Getting all of this sand out of my clothes will do wonders for thinking up a new plan. Feeling somewhat lifted by the prospect of being clean again she headed in to the bathroom to see what kind of toiletries were in stock.

The door to the hallway creaked open slightly, the sound obscured by the running water in the bathroom. Footsteps padded silently across the rug to the great table in the middle of the room and paused. A vial was uncorked, and a single drop splashed into an open bottle of wine. Silently the vial was corked, taking great care not to rustle needlessly any of the plates or wineglasses that had been set out for the afternoon lunch. Quietly the intruder returned to the door and was gone as unobtrusively as it had come.

Ashelin sighed with pleasure as she settled into her bath. Oooh, it felt so good to have hot water again. She smiled contentedly to herself as she worked the sand out of her fingernails. For once it was nice to just kick back and relax, even in the midst of all the chaos that was going on just outside. In the bathroom, she decided with a smirk, nothing could go wrong.

There was a sound of shattering glass in the main room.

Ashelin froze, instinctively sinking lower into the sudsy water. Someone was in the master bedroom. Quietly she slid out of the bathtub and tied on a robe hanging on the doorway, thanking Mar that she had taken her guns into the bathroom with her. She picked up the cool steel weapons and pointed them at the doorway, then kicked it open and darted into the doorway, sweeping her sights across the room.

It was empty.

Odd, she thought, I could have sworn I just-

With an eerie shriek a mass of Metalhead scales, Marauder, and vengeful woman jumped down from the Chandelier and landed squarely on top of Ashelin, knocking her to the floor. Her pistols skittered across the stone floor, one sliding under the dresser, the other under the bed. It was Zleke, and she smelled strongly of lizard dung. "You!" She screamed, pummeling her about the head as hard as she could. "You started this war!"

Oh Mar, not again, Ashelin thought briefly, then reared onto her shoulder blades and kicked, sending Zleke flying across the room and into the dresser. She slumped to a sitting position, momentarily stunned. Ashelin scrambled to the bed to grab her pistol, groping furiously in the black space. Zleke stood up and shook her head, a little woozy, then charged at Ashelin again, shrieking as loud as she could.

"Stop!" Ashelin yelled, rolling out of the way. "I didn't start the war!"

"Liar!" Zleke growled, grabbing a fistful of her dreadlocks from behind. "I heard what that man said, you're all alike!" She gave Ashelin's hair a nasty tug and she yelped.

Ashelin grabbed Zleke's forearms and flipped the woman over her head, sending her sprawling onto the slippery bathroom floor. "That's not true, my father was a murderer and a madman and I have nothing to do with his plans!"

Zleke blinked, a little confused at her answer. "Then why is there a war?" She demanded, attempting to scramble to her feet but slipping on the wet tiles. "How do you account for this mess?"

Ashelin sat up, panting a little. "I've had my own war to deal with. Haven's been a mess ever since Veger got on the city council. I've got two hundred thousand people that will die if they don't get access to eco soon.Cleaning up the mess out here was secondary." She finished, standing up straight and approaching the bathroom warily. Zleke returned her suspicious stare.

"So you think eco will solve your problems?" Zleke jeered. "After all the trouble your father caused out here, you really think that having your city up and running again is going to fix all the lives you've cost?"

"Hah!" Ashelin barked out a laugh. "Like you know anything about being a governor of a city." She placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"I know one thing." Zleke said slowly, standing up at last. "And thats that I don't like you." She charged at Ashelin again, headbutting her in the stomach and knocking her flat on her back. Zleke jumped up and drove an elbow down on to Ashelin's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her

The door to the bedroom flew open. "Freeze!" Torn yelled, pointing his pistol inside the doorway.

Both women froze, staring up at him. One dripping wet and out of breath, the other angry and covered in thick armor.

"What in the hell," Torn asked slowly, lowering his pistol ever so slightly. "is going on here?" He looked a cross between amused, disturbed, and aroused.

"Its fine, Torn." Ashelin wheezed, sliding out from underneath her assailant. "Everything is fine. We just had a little...disagreement." She panted, still not quite recovered from Zleke's impromptu wrestling move. Zleke backed off slightly, now not quite so eager to attack with the addition of a firearm to the situation.

Torn raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?" He said doubtfully, pointing his pistol at Zleke. "No one will be too upset if we shoot her. What with breaking into your room and all."

Zleke paled. She was done for. So this is how she would die, wrestling the sopping wet governess of Haven City in the guest room of the Spargus palace. It was almost funny, if you didn't think about the dying part.

"No, no. I think we can sort this out..." Ashelin paused, looking for the right word. "diplomatically." She finished, a smile hovering at her lips. Zleke blinked, confused. So she wasn't dead after all? The Haven woman was sticking up for her? Whaaaaat? Her mind reeled.

"Alright then." Torn said, shrugging his shoulders. "But if I hear any more...disturbances, I'll be back." He warned, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

"Now." Ashelin said, rolling onto her side and sitting up. "That takes care of that."

Zleke sat down abruptly, the sudden relief of not dying making her legs weak. "You could have had me killed." She whispered. "But you didn't. Why?" She looked at the governess questioningly.

Ashelin chuckled dryly. "Not all of the Praxises are bastards. Thought I would prove it to you through actions, since words weren't getting through. I feel terrible about all this, if it means anything." She said with a rueful shrug, standing up and fetching a bottle of wine off of the table. She poured two glasses. "Here." Ashelin said, passing one to Zleke, who took it cautiously. "To the Marauders." Ashelin said, lifting her glass in a toast.

"To the Marauders." Zleke echoed, a little stunned, then downed her glass.

Ashelin smiled, relieved that things were going a bit more smoothly, and took a sip of her own wine. "Now," she said. "If you'll sit down I can help you and your people work out a plan to...hello? Zleke?" Ashelin said, frowning. Zleke's eyes were dialating and her mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

"Zleke?" Ashelin asked again. Something was wrong. Zleke pitched forward abruptly onto the ground and started gagging, her body writhing in uncontrollable spasms. Ashelin stood up abrutply in alarm, backing away from the seizuring woman.

"Help!" Ashelin shouted. "Somebody help!" She looked down at the Marauder, who was now gasping for air and moaning in pain.

"Poison!"

* * *

Oh noes! Zleke has been poisoned by the wine that was intended for Ashelin! O Cruel fate! What will happen? Read on and see! 


	11. Ch: 11 Dagger of my Heart

Look who hasn't updated in forever! Me!

Crazy RL stuff going on lately. Finals, sickness, homework, blegh. In the back of my mind, however, my ideas for this story were lurking, and they itched like crazy beans! So I wrote them down. What do you think, do I still got it? May want to read the previous chapters to get an idea of where the story's coming from, I know its been a while.

Enjoy!

* * *

The first thing Zleke became aware of...was blood. 

The tangy iron taste of blood in her mouth. In her nostrils. Every shallow breath she took wafted the smell delicately down her throat like a sanguine perfume. Her head felt as though she were thousands of feet under the ocean, and with a current to match. Even cracking her eyes open brought a dizzying onslaught of lights and colors that she could make no sense of. Moving was futile, Zleke decided with a short sigh. Her stomach spasmed and she winced, stars flashing across the darkness of her closed eyelids.

Something was prying open her mouth, pouring in a cool sweet liquid that tickled her nose and throat . Weakly she tried to resist but quickly found it was no use, the hands were firm and the goblet unrelenting. Quiet voices were speaking, although Zleke couldn't make out what they were saying. Gently the hands smoothed her hair, and she found herself growing groggy. _I wonder... _she thought dimly.

_I wonder what happened...?_

--------------------------------------------------

Ashelin sat back grimly, wiping the blood of the other woman off on her pants. Whatever poison it was that she had ingested, it was nasty. Blood was trickling from her nostrils, her skin was pale and bluish, and her body was slowly balling itself up into a tight fetal position. The only thing Ashelin knew about treating poison was to either make the victim throw up or give them lots of water, and she was choosing the second option. She'd filled a goblet full of cool water, mixed it with a little honey, and was trying to make Zleke drink when she stirred, muttering.

"I s-saw." She croaked, her eyelids fluttering. "S-ssaw ssomeone..." Her teeth were chattering.

"Shh. Don't say anything." Ashelin did her best to soothe the Marauder. "Save your strength." Doubtfully she cast her eyes around the disheveled room again. Wine was all over the floor, the sheets were lying in a cotton puddle by the side of the bed, the hinges on the dresser were broken...so much for showing graciousness for Spargus hospitality.

"Torn!" She called again, for the fifth time. "Torn!" Mar, where was he?

The door creaked open and Torn shuffled in, looking as though he'd just been in a fight. His uniform was ripped across the chest and his right ear was bleeding. He didn't look particularly happy.

"You called, Gov-"

With one glance at Ashelin and the state of the room Torn stopped midsentence, then abruptly slammed the door shut behind him. Wordlessly he went over to the window and checked its locks, screwing the latches tighter. Warily he glanced up at the chandelier, checking for any sign of an intruder.

"What happened?" He demanded, getting down on his hands and knees and checking under the bed. Torn stood up and looked back at her.

"Heh. Nice to know I'm alright, Commander?" Ashelin asked, doing a poor job of keeping the resentment out of her voice.

"Don't be stupid. Securing the area is the first step after any assault, you know that. And this certainly qualifies," He brought his face close to hers. "as an assault."

"She was poisoned." Ashelin half-whispered. "Someone poisoned the wine...I poured us some, and she drank first."

"Thats impossible." Torn growled, picking up the empty bottle off the floor and sniffing at it dubiously. His dark brown eyes scanned through the murky glass intensely. "We ran the usual checks on the food this afternoon. It was fine. No dark eco traces, no poison, no bodily fluids..."

"Yeah Torn. And she looks just fine too, doesn't she?" Ashelin asked sarcastically. In truth Zleke looked more like a bloated fish.

Torn sighed. He cast the slightest glimpse at her over his shoulder, and he no longer looked angry. Just incredibly defeated. "No. But you're okay." He looked ahead at the wall. "That's what matters." There was a long pause. Torn's posture was as stiff as a board, every image of the model soldier.

"Ss-aw..." Croaked Zleke.

Ashelin looked up quickly. "Thats right. Zleke said she saw someone."

"Who? When?" Immediately Torn switched into interrogation mode, leaning over the dying woman. "What did they look like? What were they wearing? We've got to send out a search party before they get too far!"

"She's in hardly any position to hold an interview, Commander." A voice from the doorway said cooly. It was Marek, and he was holding a stone bowl with some sort of leafy poultice in it. His robes were torn and dusty as well, and there were a few splotches of blood by his left breast. "And after that beating that woman gave you, I'd think you were in no such shape either."

The muscles in Torn's jaw stood out like steel cables. "What are you doing here?" He spat.

"Confirming for myself who that woman was." He crossed over to Zleke and knelt down beside her, flipping back her eyelids to check the dialation of her pupils and checking her pulse. He sat back and sighed. "Its just as I feared. Daggerroot poison. Horrible nerve toxin, It rarely kills but it almost always maims for life."

"Who was that woman?!" Torn demanded, his patience at an end.

"I don't know her name. She's a desert hermit, as far as I know. Occasionally she stops by the cave to trade for goods. She's affiliated with neither the Marauders nor the Spargans. Skilled with herbs, good with animals, a bit eccentric. Never shows her face" He glanced down bemusedly. "And apparently she's also an attempted murderer." Delicately he picked the goblet up off the ground and stirred the poultice from the bowl into it, then unceremoniously dumped it down Zleke's throat.

"Where can we find her?" Ashelin asked. "Surely you must have some idea where she lives."

"Sadly, no." Marek said. "She's extremely good at covering her tracks. All attempts to find her on specific occasions have previously proven futile. If she doesn't want to be found," he glanced up at Ashelin seriously. "you're not going to find her."

"Then I will." Came Jak's voice from the doorway. He strode purposefully into the room, Daxter perched confidently atop his shoulder. An intense fire shown from his eyes. Could it be that he had regained his confidence as a hero? "No one attempts to poison my friends and get away with it."

Marek raised an eyebrow. "Not even I could track that woman down, Mar. What makes you think you could succeed where I have failed?"

Jak just grinned, a devil-may-care smile. "I've got my resources."

"Yeah!" Daxter piped up. "And some really big guns!"

Marek smiled very slightly.

"Well Jak, I guess its up to you then. Don't let us down. We're counting on you to find this crazy broad. Otherwise she's a major hole in our security. Wouldn't want that, would we?" Torn smiled slightly. "Don't yourself killed. We may have something else thats useful for you to do someday."

"Heh. You got it." Jak waved lazily as he strode from the room, the sound of boots clomping on the stone stairway gradually fading away.

"Crazy bastard." Torn said, and it was almost affectionate. "Let's get this Marauder moved to the sickhouse. And Marek," He turned, jabbing one finger into the monk's chest. "I'm putting her care under you. Spargus has enough wounded without having to deal with an ICU-grade nerve toxin."

A slight flush crept up Marek's neck. Was he...embarrassed? "It is against my vows as a celibate monk to-"

"Can it." Torn said abruptly. "Take care of her or she dies, and any clues die with her. And if I were you, I wouldn't pass up any opportunity to make myself useful."

"Hmph." The young ex-monk snorted slightly. There wasn't much he could say to that "Very well." Gingerly he gathered up the unconscious woman in his arms and strode from the room. Ashelin decided she had never seen a more conflicted looking young man.

Ashelin turned to face Torn, opening her mouth to start giving orders on how to organize the troops, but it was quickly met with his own orders, warm and insistent against her body. Heh. Always the opportunist, she thought, returning his kiss. He bit her bottom lip gently.

"Mar," he whispered, nudging the door shut with his foot. "I thought they'd never leave."

* * *

Until next Time! 


	12. Ch:12 Foreboding

Oooh! Ooh! New Chappie! This one's for you, RenjiLuvah. About time I got off my butt, eh?

I think this chapter turned out way better than the last one. More attention to detail, less implausible plot twists, etc. Could be me, though.

Read on and enjoy!

* * *

Torn was having a dream. 

In it, he was back in Haven City, back in the old KG. He and a squad were out on patrol, looking for a pack of metalheads that had recently gotten out of control. They were down in the industrial district, where everything was grey and washed out. Just like the people who lived there.

He was lagging behind the rest of the squad in his clunky red armor, for reasons he couldn't explain. Something was wrong. He just had a feeling.

A really, really bad feeling.

A ground level window in front of him exploded and a figure in rags diverolled out of the building. Torn quickly brought his sights up but the raggedy creature was too fast, his gun went skittering across the pavement. The bundle of rags drew itself up into a form that looked vaguely human.

"You associate with filth." The creature rasped. Its voice sounded like a mix between a sandstorm and a vulture's cry.

Torn couldn't move. His legs were rooted to the spot. He could only watch in terror as it took one step closer, and then another, and then...

"Torn!"

Torn sat bolt upright, his chest heaving. Sweat was dripping off his brow.

"You were dreaming." The female beside him said. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Torn shook his head and lay back down, turning his head to look at Ashelin beside him.

"It was that woman. The one who I saw in the hallway yesterday." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Something is wrong about her. Really wrong."

"Well yeah Torn. She tried to kill me." Ashelin stroked his bare chest with an index finger affectionately. "Go back to sleep. It was just a dream."

Torn grunted and closed his eyes. Ashelin was right, it was just a dream. Nothing to get all excited about. But he still couldn't shake this feeling of uneasiness he had...

* * *

It had been a long time since Jak had felt like this. 

The early morning light cast a pale rosy glow over the young warrior as he stretched on the floor of the throne room. Nothing else accompanied him, save for his measured breathing and the trickling of water over rocks. Jak closed his eyes and exhaled, leaning into his stretch.

He felt alive again. Like he had a purpose. Like he was good at something.

Sweat trickled down his face and Jak leaned upwards, flexing out his shoulder muscles. After Damas died Jak had wondered privately to himself what the hell he would do, now that all major evil powers had been forced to slink away and lick their wounds.. There were always normal opportunities, he knew. Well, relatively normal. Things like petty thugs that needed quashing, children to inspire, book deals to sign...but none of that appealed to him. His thrills in life were far more visceral. The sting of sand against his face as he roared over the dunes. The sigh of his dark claws parting the flesh of a metalhead like a dagger through the air. His deadly and faithful gun.

And the girl whose tropical ocean-colored hair made him weak-kneed with lust...

Jak shook his head forcefully. This wasn't the time for thoughts like those.

_But when?_ A small voice within him asked. _When is the time, Jak? Are you going to ignore her forever? _

"No." Jak grumbled to himself. _I just need more time...that's all. _Uneasily he banished this train of thought from his mind. Thinking about things like that before a mission could make him hesitate, make him weak. And something told him he would need everything he had for this one.

The young savior stood up and sighed, flexing his limbered muscles. Slowly, with reverence, he approached the dais from which his father once ruled and picked up his copper colored armor which lay on the steps. He buckled it quickly, giving it a light tug to make sure it was secure and wouldn't slip. Jak glanced around the throne room one last time before heading towards the lift that would take him out to the city. He had a murderer to find.

And a heart to win.

* * *

Keira's face was smudged with grease and other black sitcky things. She attempted to rub it away from her eyes, which were bloodshot and tired. It had been a long night. She'd spent the last 8 hours in the open air garage inside the gates, working quickly to turn that Kavokan vehicle into something that wouldn't fall apart when driven. It hadn't been easy, but as she put the few finishing touches on her salvaged art she noted with satisfaction that everything looked in order. No one would ever suspect that several hours before it would have been good for nothing but scrap. And Keira's crafty hands. Wearily she gave the gleaming black hood an affectionate pat. Damn solar panels. She hoped the extra boost in power would be worth it. 

It was a hell of a vehicle, she had to admit. Unlike the Wasteland vehicles, this one was completely enclosed, and looked more like a fighter jet than a ground vehicle. It was a dull matte black, and had body lines like a sleek panther. Two missle turrets were mounted just above the forward wheels, a retractable machine gun sat just behind the driver's seat, and a defensive weapons system she hadn't been able to figure out yet was incorporated into the body as well. And those were just the weapons she had found, she was sure there were some more, albeit smaller, tricks up this vehicle's sleeve. It had automatic turbo boosters, skid control, wickedly good brakes, incredible handling, and more horsepower than should be legal. Jak, she thought smugly, would love it.

A curious leaper lizard stretched its neck out over the fence and nudged her arm, looking for a treat. Zleke's lizards were also sharing the garage, contained within a makeshift pen that corralled about a third of the total space. She sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a bit of cactus flesh and tossing it over the fence. It snarfed it out of midair, then eyeballed her piteously, looking for more.

"Wow." A soft voice from behind her said. She turned around sleepily, ignoring the lizard's indignant squawk. "Yeah what is it...Oh, Jak."

Jak was running his fingers lightly over the refurbished vehicle. He looked awed. "Did you do this all last night?" He pried his eyes away from it for a moment to look at her incredulously.

"Yeah." Keira said awkwardly. She hated it when Jak just poofed in out of nowhere, it made her nervous. "I knew you were going out today, so I..." She lapsed into silence, not knowing what to say. Absently Keira raked a grime covered hand through her hair.

"It's great." He said quietly. Instantly he kicked himself. Smooth. Nice use of adjectives there, he scowled inwardly. "I mean, you did a really great job."

"Yeah." Keira looked away, the awkwardness of the situation was killing here. "Thanks." Dammit, why couldn't she just tell him? He was standing right there, all she had to do was open her mouth and...

"Keira?" Jak asked. He shuffled a little, collecting his thoughts.

"Yeah?" Keira asked, a little too quickly.

Silence.

"Um...well..." The seasoned warrior was wringing his hands slightly. "When I come back...I mean, I don't know when it will be...but, when I come back, do you want to...maybe...gooutfordinnersometime?" Jak asked in a rush. It sounded more like the air being let out of a balloon than an invitation. He was staring very hard at the sand by his boots.

"Oh." Keira blinked. And blinked again. "Sure, I'd like that." A small smile crept across her face.

"Really? Great!" Jak's face lit up. For a brief instant he was the happy boy she'd known back in Sandover. "I'll see you when I get back, then." He pushed a button on the side of the vehicle and the driver's hatch slid open and back. He hopped in and settled into the driver's seat, the safety restraints slithering down over his shoulders and locking with a hiss.

"See you round, Keira." He said, and smiled. The hatch slid silently shut, Jak barely visible through the mirrored glass.

Keira felt her knees go wobbly. "See you later, Jak."

Jak turned the ignition. For a split second nothing happened, but then vehicle exploded to life, roaring like a caged beast that demanded to be set free. It was so powerful that the sand was rippling in little waves around the tires. He tapped the accelerator lightly, testing this new power he controlled. The engine's rumble was like an impatient snarl. Seemingly satisfied, he floored it, and tore out of the garage and out to the horizon, on to sights unseen.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Sickhouse, Marek was having to deal with some personal beasts of his own. 

He'd managed, albeit a bit painfully with his broken arm and mild injuries from his recent scuffle, to move the Marauder up to a private room and get her a proper bed. Absently he sat on a chair on the foot of the bed and watched her. She was resting now, but the tightness in her muscles hadn't gone down as he had hoped it would. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse, her arms were pressed close against her body and her fingers were splayed like claws. If it got any worse her tendons might be permanently damaged.

Which meant there was only one thing left to do.

Gingerly he scooted his chair around until he was sitting by her side. Cautiously, he extended one hand and gripped her arm. Mar help me, he silently pleaded. If I break my vows, it is for a greater good. He sincerely hoped his Abbot wouldn't find out about this. It would mean expulsion.

Or worse.

Gently he kneaded the muscles in her arm, using the heat from his hands to slowly work her muscles into a more pliable state. He massaged his way up her forearm, to her wrist, and her fingers. Marek admired his handiwork for a moment. Her arm was relaxed and loose, a stark contrast from the rest of her body. It wasn't a permanent cure, but it would help. It seemed that a regular massage would keep the toxin from accumulating to dangerous levels in her muscles and tendons. It also meant, he realized with a sinking feeling, that he would be touching the rest of her body. And often.

He sat back in his chair and sighed. There were many forms of temptation, but none as bizarre as this. The ex-monk glanced down at the sleeping Marauder.

"I am your prisoner." He muttered quietly. The irony of it all was sickening.

* * *

That's all for this week folks. Wear your seatbelt! 


End file.
